#mutual hunt!!! i'm ready

[bambi-kinos]

Whether John and Paul shagged or not is simultaneously the most captivating and least important part of their romance. If they didn't have sex then it explains a hell of a lot. On the other hand if they did then all it really does is add a new layer of sadness to the whole thing because sex didn't fix their problems and may have made them worse. And being betrayed by someone you had a physical relationship with is a whole new level of hurt. (But on the third hand, this would explain why everything was so vitriolic, yes?) It is one of those gaps that we have no choice but to project ourselves and experiences into since we have no information.

The John quotes that imply they never fucked ("maybe if we'd had a homosexual relationship that could have resolved it" or something like that) are interesting. I wonder if John was talking about an emotional relationship instead of a "just lads" thing.

Even if John and Paul didn't have a physical relationship they were still sexually intimate. They watched each other have sex, Paul has a quote about watching John's ass go up and down while he was thrusting. There's an anecdote about John and Paul having sex with a pair of women in the same bed together. The whole band tended to fuck together in the same room. And then there's the group wanks which, y'know. So I wonder if John's quotes are about him thinking about emotional honesty/intimacy, not necessarily sex. Admitting to the real feelings that underpinned their relationship thus making it "homosexual."

John's whole thing during the Dakota years were "gimme some truth." He was so frustrated by being surrounded by liars and conmen. It's easy for me to shittalk him but he was self aware ("I Know, I Know") and he wanted someone to just be honest with him. John struggled with accepting these truths but there was always that part of him that wanted to be better, be the good man that we can see inside him. If Paul denied the homosexual nature of his relationship with John then he denied the truth.

Someone I used to know liked to remark that John relied on Paul to always tell him the truth. Paul turtled up when faced with the possibility that he was genuinely in love with another man, thus denying their homosexual relationship. It would be brutal enough if they never had sex but it would be triply so if they did and Paul tried to brush off years of physicality by shitting himself and eloping with a photographer from New York.

The illegal nature of their love would make it even more alluring to them, lots of tension and excitement as you said. John hates society's rules and Paul is an innate contrarian who hates being told what to do, as well as an adrenaline junkie. Fencing in their activities with the threat of jail time would just make them want to have sex even more. Not that they wouldn't be scared of getting in trouble but that they want to be together in spite of it. Their mutual obsession was also driven by people trying to separate them like Jim and Mimi. Stuart made Paul even more deranged about John and John cut up a woman's dress just because she was in bed with Paul.

Paul may not have been the only guy John had sex with (there's the Bowie assignation) but it would still be a short list. John just struggled so much with his sexuality, I'm not sure if he was able to let other men into his life that way. Paul and his attraction to other men weighed so heavily on him.

Re: John being demi - don’t you think it’s possible he had sex because that’s what was expected of him? His age, lifestyle, etc. Especially because of his self-destructive tendencies and not always acting on how he truly feels. Or acting in a way that doesn’t express how he truly feels - i.e. Barcelona. He could have easily slept with Yoko early on, with her throwing herself at him but it wasn’t until correspondence and a deeper connection did he engage sexually. Not to mention him not wanting to have sex with men later in life because he couldn’t find one he connected with in that way. To me even the lyric “My love will turn you on” - is revealing.

If you want to interpret John Lennon as demisexual then you certainly can and I can't and won't stop you. But since you're asking me directly my answer is just a flat "no." John was sexually attracted to women so he slept with them. He was conventional that way. He was also hooking up with Yoko soon after Indica, he did not wait until the night he took LSD with her and recorded the sex tape.

You need to remember the cultural climate John existed in. It was "expected" of John to get married to a woman, settle down with her, have children, hold a steady uninspiring job, and then die at 70 with a gold pocket watch in his waistcoat without ever standing out from the crowd or doing anything that would express his individuality and personal needs. These were the stultifying expectations John grew up under and he hated it.

The Beatles kept their orgies secret because it would have destroyed them as a band if it got out that they were nailing groupies, this is the exact OPPOSITE of it being "expected" of them to have sex with lots of women.

The performative aspect was the groupies expectation of John to act like Beatle John while he was thrusting. That doesn't mean John disliked it or was carrying out an act he found distasteful for the sake of expectations. And remember: John kept posters of Bridget Bardot and Elvis Presley in his bedroom at Mendips because he was jerkin' it to their images. He only had a parasocial fanboy relationship with them but he was deeply sexually attracted to both. This is the opposite of demisexuality which requires a personal connection of some kind.

I talked about this in the McLennon server this afternoon so I'll just repost what I said in there:

Leggy「IT'S A GUNDAM 」 — Today at 5:20 PM john was just so laden with PTSD and agoraphobia

like Shotton talks about how John started turtling up once he got Kenwood, the hibernation years were a long time coming. but he was so deeply separated from other people even as a child and that just got worse and worse over time.

like sex was a way for John to connect with human beings and I wonder if it was the only way he could. that's not to say he couldn't fall in love if he met people but he had to keep his connections shallow as a matter of survival, he wasn't able to form those relationships easily and when he did connect to others it was because they pursued him.

Cynthia was the aggressor in her relationship with John, he liked her but he didn't pay attention to her until she dyed her hair blonde to catch his eye. Paul was super down bad. Yoko stalked him.

Otherwise even as a teenager John's relationships were strictly about sex, not romantic love, and he wasn't interested in romantic love until Paul and art school came into his life.

***

This is the exact opposite of demisexuality. John could form personal relationships and he could fall in love with people but when he did, he seemed to back away from them sexually. If we count Paul as one of John's lovers (and I do) then we see this happen to where John broke it off with Paul to pursue someone else physically (in this case Yoko.) John liked using sex as a way to connect with others but the moment genuine feelings got involved he got skittish. Note that he initially was planning to buy a house with May Pang but then he went back to Yoko when the Montauk plans began solidifying. John was certainly attracted to May Pang and he certainly had a personal connection with her but when that started getting a little too real and too deep, then he left her and would only hook up with her occasionally in controlled environments where he could ghost her easily afterwards.

The same thing happened with Yoko: after Sean was born, she and John stopped having sex and she sent him to the massage parlors to avoid dealing with him.

And don't forget how John's relationship with May Pang started: Yoko hired May Pang to be John's mistress. May was paid by Yoko to have sex with John and to keep him within Yoko's reach while they were in Los Angeles, what with Yoko's daily phone calls. May did fall in love with John but John knew that May was a business asset controlled by his wife and that she was being paid to never leave him. This was the foundation of their affection for each other. When May and John went back to New York and started looking for houses in Montauk, John opted to go back to Yoko for her smoking cure and came back ready to leave May Pang, aka the relationship with May Pang was becoming too real and too deeply rooted in actual Love (with that capital L) that meant May would no longer be forced to stay with John due to receiving a salary from Yoko Ono.

What seems to be more of a pattern in his life is that he was very wary of forming personal connections with others, when they did form it was because the second person pursued him vigorously, and then he had a saddening tendency to leave once his love with that second person began to develop into a deep, long lasting adult relationship. If anything, John seemed to use sex as a way to keep himself hidden and to stop forming connections with others because the moment he had sex with someone he could safely label them "disposable" which is exactly what he did with Paul and May despite his intense connections with both of them and the fact that he was sexually intimate with both of them.

John seemed to fear love and the responsibilities and ecstasies that it brings. This is not demisexuality as I understand it and I simply cannot agree with the assertion that John was demisexual.

[arolesbianism]

Hm. I am getting the distinct feeling that either revanced broke or some apps are doing smth real shitty

[non-operator]

:D

[rottiens]

HUNTER┊RYOMEN SUKUNA

tags. read part two here (optional), mutual pinning, childhood friends, modern au, primal play.

"You want me to run?" You're obviously confused, a puzzled reaction forming on your face at the same time a never-quite smile tugs at your lips.

"Just like when we were kids — don't you think it'll be fun?"

Sukuna is smiling, you can see his pearly teeth even break through the dark jet night.

A nervous smile tempts to break out, you hold it back by biting your lower lip. Your heart is pounding, like a drum pushing against your ribs. The sound of the city festival (music, noise, parade) comes muffled by the din of adrenaline in your ears.

"And you want to chase me…" you reason. "What's in it for me if you don't catch me?"

Sukuna was going to catch you, he always did when you were little. You were out of shape because you hadn't run in years, hadn't played hide and seek in years and yet there's something behind his big eyes full of excitement and apparent thrill at the idea of chasing you that makes you smirk.

Sukuna folds his arms, you wonder what he's thinking when he doesn't answer right away.

"We can go back to the silly festival, ride the roller coaster and…"

You interrupt him. "What if you win?" you swallow, trembling slightly. There's eagerness in your voice that you can't disguise.

"I guess you'll have to find out— One…" Sukuna begins to count, suddenly squatting down to tighten the laces of his combat boots.

"Sukuna.. I'm not ready! Wait!" Exasperated, nervous and with a knotted stomach you try to reason with him to give you more time to think.

The forest is dark, bathed in colored lights and fireworks that break the harmony of the sky, your shoes are not made for running, and what happens when he finds you?

Why does the idea of him finding you excite you so much, why does the idea make your nipples ache and your pussy throb? This was your best friend, you weren't supposed to feel this way about him.

"Two…" his smile widens as do his shoulders when he stands up again, your fear making him look bigger than he really is, his chest is tight under his sweatshirt, his shoulders big and strong and his jaw clenched, holding back the tension the idea of hunting you makes him feel.

You swallow, dry your hands on the denim of your pants and take two steps away from him… the number "three" is on the tip of his pretty lips, pierced by that silver hoop. Before he opens his mouth or you can command your limbs, you find yourself running for the trees, fast, as fast as you physically can.

[death---dealer]

The Apes realizing that they want to actually actively court you and it’s not inherently romantic because this shit happens at the most random of moments? Yeah.

Caesar.

Literally happens at the most opportune time. He had taken you to a council meeting to discuss something regarding Humans, and the Ape King wanted another position of opinion, even though he does know that Koba will fight back. Well, the moment the Bonobo chooses to say something as a slight towards you, instead of Caesar bringing himself into the argument that he knew would happen between you and Koba, you start to vehemently defend yourself with the use of broken sign language and your words. Koba growls at you but you just bared your teeth back and barked as if you were an Ape, telling him to leave you alone and that his hatred for Humans was not justified towards yourself, that he had no reason to hate you other than being a Human. Koba is looking between you and Caesar, hoping to garner at least some support from his closest friend, but the King is absolutely shocked that you were taking action, so coarse and concise and it leaves Koba in a loud huff as he storms away, defeated and most likely embarrassed. Caesar's green and gold eyes just watch as your shoulders rise and fall predominantly, hands falling back to your side as you watch the Bonobo leave with heated eyes, your body sliding itself back into its slotted position around the council, next to Caesar while Rocket was on the other side.

Everyone is looking at you for actually tearing into Koba, for actually speaking for the Colony's interests outside of just your own Human ones. Maurice gives Caesar a look that is returned. A mutual understanding, Blue Eyes is signing at you in mild admiration for your bravery.

Then. That moment, Caesar slides his eyes against your profile as you looked at the fire, the gleam so captivating against your features that he has to tell himself to look away, to start another conversation with his thick hands. But the way that you're trying to collect yourself back to rationality is so intense that Caesar wants to take it all in. It's that moment right there that he decides that he wants to take things a step further.

Noa.

Happens at the moment that you adversely accept his culture and by proxy, you accept him. You had been spending the afternoon with Dar, her words so wise and inflicting that you feel a small bit of guilt resting in your stomach that you had ever thought of the Apes as anything but incredibly civilized.

Noa had been working on something at his bench, near where you and his Mother were and by hour, his lushed green eyes are looking up at the sun keeping time for how long you were invested in conversation with her. He can hear the fleeting questions you had about the Eagles. About how they were used for hunting, how they were used to find lands outside of the Clan itself, how they benefited everyone and even going into details about the Eagle Egg Ceremony itself.

The beam on your face as you place your fingers delicately against Dar's Eagle, Eagle Sun himself sitting near Noa with acute interest at the fact that you were showing affection to another one. Noa stops his hands from moving once you ask a very interesting question. "I'm not an Ape, but do you think... I'll ever have one myself?" Dar herself is unsure of how to answer that, looking over at Noa with a curious brow raise and he just looks into the eyes that mirrored his own, mouth resting in its usual ajar position, but with a bit more perplexity as he looked over at you, your eyes so focused on Dar's bird that you hadn't noticed the Mother/Son interaction. Noa says nothing, does nothing as he sees Dar turn back towards you, a reassuring hand resting on your shoulder as she tells you, "Soon. You... Are almost ready." That moment, and the subsequent actions of going to take you on the Climb to get your Egg. Those are the moments that Noa solidifies in himself that there's going to be more and he's going to prusue you.

Blue Eyes.

Happens as he watches you doing something incredibly Human. He did not understand what you were using to eat. Something with four prongs in it, you used it to dig into a berry and brought it up to your mouth, scraping it off and smiling at the wicker bowl in your life.

You were by yourself, Blue Eyes having just gotten back from a day expedition with River and Ash and you were sitting near the fire, your jacket zipped up in disappointment to the Prince as he had no visual on your beating jugular but he was so captivated in watching you use a utensil to eat as Blue Eyes signed a rather pre-occupied goodbye to his friends and found himself trailing towards you, carefully, his hands and feet were light and he found it difficult to keep himself standing at all when you noticed him and flashed him a rather berry induced grin. 

Blue Eyes was entranced as you pulled the utensil away with a hard swallow and you offered it to him, "It's called a fork," Carefully, he grasps it from you and feels a shatter of confusion around his heart when you graze fingertips with the action. "We..." Your voice gets quiet and he recognizes it as embarrassment, "Humans use it to eat... so our hands don't get dirty."

Blue Eyes looked at it and pricked his fingertip with it and yelped when he used too much force out of curiosity. Quickly, you grabbed it back from him and grasped his hand without reserve and looked at it, "They're also really, really good at jabbing people with," His eyes are ample as you looked at his digit, the pad of your finger rubbing it once as you brought it to your face carefully to inspect, "Like a spear."

That moment. Your patience to explain a human object. The care you had with his hand, despite having to know that his skin was much more durable than your own and he yelped out of the pressure and not pain, you telling him that he was fine but to be more careful if he wanted to use it in the future and that it wasn't fun to poke your tongue with.

Blue Eyes, whether he knows it or not as he sits beside you, shoulder displacing some of his scent against you, he's chosen to make something more out of the budding relationship.

Anaya.

Would you be surprised if I told you it revolved around a mango? More often than not, he's got you in his sight when you're out together with Soona and Noa. His green and golden eyes beamed against the sun, his darkened fur glistening in excitement at the sound of your laughter from a meter to his left. Echo found strange things amusing, Anaya thought to himself and looked over at where he had heard you but... To his surprise, you were not there. A wash of panic shivers down his spine and out of instinct, the fur of his shoulders rises in case you had been snatched from under him. Unlikely considering you were out with three of them, but certainly not impossible. Anaya can see Noa and Soona in front of him, talking about a bush and whether it was poisonous or not. You were not there--- Suddenly, the Chimp is whacked on the neck by a falling object. Hissing defensively, he raised his hand and rubbed the taut muscle there and turned around only to get a mouthful again of your laughing. "Echo?" You're washed in front of him, upside down and dangling from a tree by your knees. In your hands, a few mangoes and Anaya quickly put it together that you had tossed one right at him, probably harder than you intended as you gave him a smile, "Sorry."

The Ape breathes out dramatically, reaching up with his long arms to help you down from the tree itself, the branch not very far off the ground and with Anaya's strength, you teeter against him onto your feet, almost flushed against his chest save for the mangoes. "I-I went up like you showed me to get us some fo-for a snack!" You grinned, looking at your cradled arms before handing him one.

Hesitantly for once, Anaya takes it into his hand, bringing it to his chest protectively and just watches as you race over to Noa and Soona to show them what you foraged by yourself and shared the fruit with them. That moment. Seeing you do something so daring, so brave for just an Echo and then radiating with pride as you shared. Anaya wants more. Anaya realizes that he wants more and he puts it into the forefront of his mind to make it happen.

Koba.

There’s never quite a moment where he decides to court you, that implies that it’s something that you’re aware is happening. Koba would rather gouge his other eye out than admit that you two were ever in that sort of entanglement, so the moment he feels that prickle of instinct rising against the back of his mind, he’s adamant to shove it down. Koba does not like the way that your delicate and blunted teeth were tearing apart the Elk meat you were having for dinner, he did not like the way that you chewed, so slowly and savoring the flavor of the game. Koba feels oddly satisfied watching you eat it though, knowing that it was himself who caught it for the communal dinner. A provider of sorts, something that was great to display for a mate.

He feels bile rising in the back of his throat, resting uncomfortably as you look over at River and Lake whom you were eating with, a boisterous laugh tickling at his ears and he huffs roughly, looking down at his wickered bowl of food and suddenly having very little interest in it. Sure, the other Apes of the Colony were enjoying their meals with chatter and jokes, but the audacity you had to presume that you were equal to them, able to make your own jokes, was outrageous. 

Koba was not willing to subside his hatred for Humans, but watching you from the graze of the bonfire as you sign at the other two Apes, choppy in the language but well enough for them to understand, he feels a slight pull to keep you near him because there was disgusting fascination in how you acted. Licking your lips, you can feel his set of eyes on you, one good, one milky staring daggers right into your skull. Turning slowly, you look at him and flash a brief smile for the Bonobo who brought you nothing but antagonistic behavior, empathy running in your expression. 

Koba hates that. The empathy. The desire you had to talk to him or be near him, or even look at him as he was fast to pick his bowl up and trail to a different, more secluded area to watch you eat. He hates it, but he refuses to stop because the hatred has turned into a minor codependency of the most aggravated toleration, maybe more if Koba wanted to be honest with himself. Which, once again, he refused.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hi! It's me ya girl! And I'm here to deliver some incorrect quotes to you about our favorite Pierro Piętro Harbinger ( yes that is his true full canon name because I said so)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: I have feelings for you.

Reader: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: As top in this relationship, I think we should-

Reader: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

Reader: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Reader: Fight me!

Pierro: *gets on one knee and pulls out a ring*

Pierro: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Reader: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Look, last night was a mistake.

Reader: A sexy mistake.

Pierro: No, just a regular mistake.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Reader: I like your new pants!

Pierro: Thanks, they were 50% off!

Reader: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*

Pierro: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

Reader: Thats’s… not what I meant.

Pierro: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Reader.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Reader: Oh. We're going out?

Pierro: Wh...

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Are you trying to seduce me?

Reader: Why, are you seducible?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: *seductively takes off glasses*

Pierro: Wow...

Reader: *blushes* Haha... what?

Pierro: You're really fucking blurry.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Reader: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Pierro: ...

Pierro: You mean ring bearER, right?

Reader: ...

Pierro: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Reader: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Pierro: But you’re always acting stupid?

Reader: ...

Reader: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Reader: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Pierro: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: We both look very handsome tonight.

Reader: You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you."

Pierro: I couldn't take that chance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Is something burning?

Reader, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Pierro: Reader, the toaster is literally on fire.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Reader: Are you ready to commit?

Pierro: Like, a crime or a relationship?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pierro: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers?

Reader: Peonies, why?

Pierro:

Reader: Were you going to get me flowers?

Pierro:

Reader:

Pierro: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That is all... For now anyways I will come back and hunt you with these.

Finally, a true Pierro Piętro Main

Also, omg buddy, these are hilarious. You need to post your own tidbits of Harbingers with Reader. But Pierro x Reader who is mutually stoic as him, only for them both to be immortally stupid once they're together is my favorite genre. Like Heavenly Principles be damned, we're both dense, what do we do after courting each other?

[samdeancass]

Headstrong Hunter

Requested by @i0fty with Prompt #7 from my Prompt List: "You could have died!"

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters: Castiel, Y/N

Description: After finding out that the monster that killed their family had come around in a nearby town, Y/N decides to face it head on, and alone.

You stormed out of your room and into the library with Castiel hot on your heels. Sam and Dean jumped back into their chairs as you threw your hands down on the table, an exasperated look on your face. "Can you two please tell him that I've been a hunter my whole life and I can take care of myself?" They both shot their hands in the air and got up from the table. "We're not getting involved in this." Sam sheepishly walked away with Dean scurrying behind. "Nu-uh, don't want to get involved in the relationship crap." You narrowed your eyes as they walked past you, silently cursing them, until an exasperated breath broke you from your thoughts.

"What, Cas? I've told you, I'm going on this hunt and there's nothing you can do to stop me." You turned around and, sure enough, Castiel stood a mere centimetre behind you. "You know I have the power to stop you. With a flick of my wrist, I could send you back to the room and barricade you inside." You narrowed your eyes and smirked evilly. "Yeah, I know, but you won't. You promised me when we started dating that you would never use your powers on me unless I was dying. Besides, I have a personal stake in this hunt; it's connected to the creature that killed my family. I need to see this through, not just for them but for myself too. I can't keep running from my past, and this is my chance to finally face it head-on." Castiel's expression softened, a mix of concern and understanding flickering in his eyes. He let out a resigned sigh, knowing the depth of your determination and the pain driving you. "Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. I can't bear losing you." You nodded, appreciating his concern even as you stood firm in your resolve. Castiel's protectiveness was something you became accustomed to, a testament to his depth of feelings for you. Yet, you understood that love meant allowing each other to fight your own battles, and this was one you needed to face alone. Despite his celestial powers and ancient wisdom, Castiel respected your feelings, knowing that true partnership was built on trust and mutual support.

You began gathering your gear, meticulously checking each piece to ensure top condition. Your weapons were cleaned and loaded, your knife sharpened to a fine edge, and your backpack was filled the tools you needed. With a determined glance at Castiel, you tucked a protective amulet that he gave you into your jacket. This reminded you of his love for you, and acted as a direct line to him when you needed help. You took a deep breath, ready to embark on your journey. You turned and kissed Cas. His eyes pleaded with you not to go alone and your resolve nearly broke. It took all your strength to turn away from him. With a nod of determination, you set off, ready to take on whatever danger lies ahead. As you walked away, a mix of emotions swirled within you—fear, excitement, and a deep sense of purpose. Leaving Castiel behind was not easy, but you knew this was a journey you had to undertake on your own. The thought of confronting the creature that haunted your past filled you with anxiety, yet it also fueled your determination to finally find closure. Throwing your bag into the backseat, you set off with determination to finish off the monster that had plagued you for most of your life. You knew the monster was part of the werewolf family, but nothing more than that. You had to find the answers you needed to put an end to this nightmare. You were determined to put an end to this once and for all.

The road stretched out before you, winding through dense forests and past desolate fields, each mile bringing you closer to the creature's lair. The sky was overcast, casting a grey pallor over the landscape, mirroring your turmoil. As you drove, the haunting memory of the monster played over and over in your mind. The weight of your mission pressed down on you, but the thought of finally ending this chapter of your life kept you focused and resolved. The memory of the encounter with the creature was still vivid in your mind, etched with clarity. You remembered the chilling sound of its growl and the ferocity in its eyes as it lunged at you from the shadows. That night, you barely escaped with your life, but the scars left were more than just physical. It killed your parents right in front of you which left a massive hole in your heart. You missed them dearly, and you wanted to honour them by killing the monster. You were determined to avenge their death, and you set out to hunt the creature down. You were determined to end its reign of terror and to bring justice to your family.

The monster's lair loomed ahead, a dilapidated mansion shrouded in darkness and overgrown with vines. The windows were shattered, and the front door hung ajar, creaking ominously in the wind. The air around it was thick with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves, as if the very forest held its breath in anticipation of your arrival. As you approached the mansion, a mix of fear and determination coursed through your veins. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the trepidation and courage battling within you. Despite the fear, there was a fierce resolve burning inside, driving you forward with the promise of closure and revenge. Gripping the silver dagger tightly in your hand, you felt its reassuring weight, knowing it was your best defense against the supernatural. In your backpack, a bottle of wolfsbane tincture and a revolver loaded with silver bullets were ready, each item carefully chosen for this mission. You had spent months preparing, studying ancient texts and consulting with experts, ensuring you had every possible advantage against the creature that had taken so much from you. You took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

Inside, the mansion was a haunting tableau of decay and neglect. The grand foyer, once splendid, was now a hollow shell, its marble floors cracked and covered in dust. Tattered remnants of opulent drapes hung limply from shattered windows, and cobwebs draped the corners like ghostly curtains. A grand staircase spiraled upward, its banister broken in several places, leading to shadows that seemed to pulse with the promise of danger. You stopped and listened for any noise but the air was silent. You tiptoed through the mansion, always ready and on-guard for when the monster appeared. You reached a landing at the top of the stairs, and you saw a door that was slightly ajar. You took a deep breath and opened it, slowly and carefully, expecting the worst. As the door creaked open, a wave of anxiety washed over you, tightening your chest and making your breath shallow. Yet, amidst the fear, there was a flicker of hope that this confrontation could finally bring peace to your tormented soul. Your hands trembled slightly, but your grip on the dagger remained firm, a tangible reminder of the strength and courage that had brought you this far. You stepped inside, determined to face whatever lay ahead. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you saw a figure standing in the shadows. You held your ground, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"I always knew you would come and find me, Y/N." The figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a tall, imposing figure with eyes that glowed an unnatural shade of amber. The creature's skin was as pale as the moonlight streaming through the broken windows. Its sharp features were accentuated by high cheekbones and an angular jaw. Clad in tattered, dark clothing that blended into the shadows, the figure exuded an aura of menace and ancient power. You stood back slightly, taken aback by the figure's appearance, but soon found your footing again. "How do you know my name?" "I know everything about you". The figure chuckled darkly and a chill ran down your spine; you knew you were in serious trouble. "I've been studying you for some time. It eluded me how you escaped me all those years ago, and so I kept an eye on you until I knew you were ready." Your heart raced, but you steeled yourself and raised the dagger defensively. "I'm definitely ready now. I didn't come here to run." Your voice was strong and unwavering. "Let's end this once and for all." You lunged forward, dagger in hand, determined to put an end to his evil. The figure stepped back, his expression unreadable, and you prepared for the fight of your life. As you lunged again, the figure pushed you down, snatching the dagger from your hand and holding it above your throat, the tip nearly piercing your skin. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this, finish off the last remaining person alive that has seen me." Panic surged through your veins, but you forced yourself to focus, searching for any glimmer of an opportunity to turn the tables. Thoughts of loved ones and promises made flashed through your mind, fueling your resolve. You couldn't let it end here; you had to find a way to survive, to fight back, and to prove that you were more than just prey to this creature.

As you prepared to fight back, the room doors burst open to reveal Castiel. "I suggest you get off them before I kill you." The figure looked up and chuckled darkly as he saw Castiel's appearance. "And what is a little man like you planning to do to something like me?" The figure looked down at you and raised the dagger. You had not seen the hunt going this way. You had always been determined to kill the creature; you didn't want to die. Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for the dagger's impact but instead felt the figure's heaviness leave you. You slowly sat up and watched as Castiel held the creature onto the wall with his powers. "That's where you're wrong. I'm not a man, I'm an angel of the Lord." He looked over at you and held his hand out, motioning for you to come over. Grabbing the dagger that the creature dropped you slowly approached them, your heart beating loudly in your ears.

As you entwined your hand with his, you looked up at Cas and he nodded. It was a silent affirmation, a gesture of trust and solidarity in the face of uncertainty. Cas's nod gave you the courage to confront the creature with resolve, knowing you were not alone. This simple act strengthened your bond, reinforcing the unspoken understanding that you were in this together. You then turned to the creature, a wave of feelings flowing through you. "I have spent my entire life studying you and planning how to kill you. You took everything from me, my family, my home and my life. I will not let you take anything else from me." You held the dagger high in the air and buried it in the creature's chest, a horrifying sound escaping from its mouth. Your legs gave way beneath you from the overwhelming event and you cried. The creature crumpled to the floor as Cas let it down and wrapped his arms around you. "Well done, honey, you did it. You got justice for your mom and dad. I'm so proud of you." He kissed the top of your head and pulled you up to standing, turning you to face him. "How did you know where I was, Cas?" He chuckled and took the amulet from your pocket. "You didn't think this was just a beacon for you to use, did you? This tells me where you are when I'm not with you. I followed you here. I was too worried to let you come here alone; and it's a good thing I did. You could have died, angel. Seeing that monster with the dagger at your throat made me feel things I never want to feel again. Please, next time when I say no, listen to me." You nodded and stood on your tiptoes, bringing Cas in for a well-deserved kiss. As your lips touched his, a whirlwind of emotions surged through you—relief, gratitude, and a lingering sadness for what was lost. The weight of years spent in pursuit of vengeance lifted, leaving behind a profound sense of peace. Yet amid the calm, a small voice inside reminded you that healing would take time, but with Cas by your side, you felt ready to face it.

Supernatural Tags:

@bxoken-heartss @deascheck @desimarie12

[luvrodite]

...ARE YOU READY FOR IT?

welcome to my first kinktober! i hope you all enjoy what i've got planned for the month ahead! i'm planning to post a fic each week, to keep things easy breezy, but i'm so excited to hopefully see the month through with a few fics of my own! happy reading!

this is an 18+ event! please have your age in your profile/navi/bio if you interact with any kinktober (or otherwise mature) posts, as you will be blocked otherwise!

mind the warnings! as always, you alone are responsible for your media consumption. read the tags carefully before you proceed, and if you feel there's a tag missing, please feel free to let me know! tags and content warnings will be updated here as fics are written and uploaded.

WEEK ONE OCTOBER 7

YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST

-> virginity + praise

synopsis. you meet a beautiful stranger and every bit of sense you've accumulated over the years flies out the window. what's the worst that could happen? a continuation of for you i’d fall from grace (just to touch your face)

cw: f!reader, smut, gentle mdom, praise, virginity loss, virgin!reader dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering f!receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex

WEEK TWO OCTOBER 14

IN DREAMS I FIND YOU

-> somnophilia

synopsis. jason returns home from patrol. what's a man to do when you're lying there so pretty? you'll let him make you feel good, won't you, baby?

cw: f!reader, slight dubcon, brief dry humping, cunnilingus, praise

WEEK THREE OCTOBER 21

TOUCHING YOU, TOUCHING ME

-> mutual masturbation

synopsis. jason needs to learn restraint. hands to himself, or it's all over

cw: f!reader, mention of bruising, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (?)

WEEK FOUR OCTOBER 28

IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU BABY (NO ONE ELSE IN THIS WORLD CAN)

-> jealousy, edging, overstimulation

synopsis. jason doesn't seem to understand just how attractive he is, so it falls to you to make sure he knows who he belongs to.

cw: f!reader, edging, overstimulation, oral sex (m! receiving), piv sex, public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!reader, minor begging, switchy jason, possessive reader

OCTOBER 31ST

I HUNT FOR YOU WITH BLOODIED FEET ACROSS THE HALLOWED GROUND

-> predator/prey, monsterfucking, dubcon, exhibitionism

synopsis. your lover's got a secret. you'd never imagine you would find yourself running through central park for it.

cw: f!reader, tbd

[a-twistedheartslonging]

The recent Book 7 release has put Vil and Rook on the mind, so do you have any particularly interesting courtship or relationship headcanons for your nonhuman AU? Thank you :)

My god Rook would rizz you so hard, we already know how he is as a human, though I've seen headcanons that he might have some beastmen in his blood it just isn't obvious/is distant or something like that.

Anyway...

He's enigmatic with a passion for all things beautiful, something Rook very much views you as regardless of what you think of yourself. He's very enthusiastic about supporting those that he admires so be ready for him to be supportive and encouraging as fuck. Yeah, he's gonna be weird about a lot of stuff but Rook is almost always genuine in his intentions.

Expect poetry and love letters to hit your door by arrow every morning.

Ah...Birb Boi Love.

When the night sky envelops the world in its cool embrace, a ballet takes place on treetops and secluded clearings— the dance of owl courtship. 

Serenading the night. Rook is already a great singer and loves to do it, with owls the males often initiate the mating process with a series of hoots. Though with him I'm pretty sure it would be actually singing that he graces you with...but still...it's kind of funny to think about...heh horny hoots.

He might be hoping for you to join him since female owls might answer back, leading to a duet. This vocal interaction strengthens the bond between the two owls and sets the stage for their partnership.

Gift giving, males often present food gifts. This act not only proves the male’s hunting prowess but also his ability to provide for offspring. He knows he can't just leave his fresh kills at your doorstep. Instead, he will use his cooking skills and bring very yummy meals cooked and caught by him. Will give a few happy hoots if you agree to letting him feed you.

He's going to bring you a lot of stuff, not just food though. Keep in mind the guy is well off and for a lot of creatures it's important to keep your mate well groomed, and he gets the good shit from Vil so expect to be gifted the best, lotions, shampoos, and skincare stuff. Along with clothes that seem to fit you perfectly...hmm how did he get your size?

Once a bond begins to form, owls might engage in mutual grooming, a sign of affection and trust. Please let him do your hair and nails he will be so happy. He gets to help you be even more pretty, gets to touch the person he likes, examine your interesting human features. He's actually someone you can trust to bathe with/wash your hair for you without trying anything regardless of his romantic feelings, even if you're nakey.

Nuzzling and nibbling will also happen, he knows you're a fan of his soft feathers and floof and will puff up to lure you in for cuddles...and then he'll get you with those gentle nibbles and nuzzle against you. At least with him, you won't have to worry about getting covered in fur after like with the others, but you might end up with a feather in your hair and will diffidently smell like Rook

Territory plays a vital role in owl mating behaviors. Male owls fiercely defend their territories from rival males, ensuring they have exclusive access to potential mates and sufficient resources for nesting and rearing young. Territory disputes often involve vocal and physical displays, including wing-spreading, aggressive posturing, and occasional physical combat.

As a result, any of the other guys should be wary of arrows flying their way when they get near Ramshackle once Rook gets to that stage in courting. The tree near your window was already one of his favorite spots before this started. I don't think he would start any fights though, not that he would need to, people tried to keep their distance from him before already.

The mental image of him doing the aggressive postering is funny though.

Hmm...wait...no...

...yeah, I can see how that would be scary if it's a man-sized owl creature doing it at night with glowing eyes and he's probably doing a weird honhonhonhon French laugh thing. He's going to scare the shit out of someone.

Some owl species, like the barn owl, engage in dramatic flight displays, which can include dives, spirals, and impressive swoops to impress a potential mate. He would definitely show off and even offer to carry you so you can enjoy a nice flight with him...you might see him divebomb someone, he doesn't actually touch them but gets pretty close.

The man loves his privacy so will likely pick a spot in Ramshackle away from everyone else to make into your love nest, only the finest blankets and pillows will be used, that fancy silk stuff you know?

Hmmm Vil.

I've thought about him ether being a Peacock-

Or a secretary bird.

I'm not sure what suits him best but I'm sure regardless his courtship will be flashy. You'll probably end up with a tail feather smacking you in the face at some point.

I might be able to think up something if you guys send in some ideas.

[brain-rot-central]

A preview of something I'm currently working on.

Born from an idea that Astarion would struggle immensely in the first few months after the events of the game. Healing trauma is rarely ever linear; there are many ups and downs to trek through before making it to the other side with newly found knowledge and strength.

Astarion's story encompasses so much of what one does to just survive when that's all they have left. This is a take on what his first few months post-main story might be like.

TW: references to disordered eating, abuse, adult themes, depression, poor mental health. Absolutely not "cute, cuddly Astarion." Our boy is sad, here.

You've saved Baldur's Gate from the Cult of the Absolute, destroyed the Netherbrain, and removed Cazador from the realm of the living. You both weren't sure what would come next. Your feelings for one another bloomed on the battlefield, fighting side by side. Neither of you knew if you'd see the following day, or what that day would bring. 

Your fires burned brightly, intertwining out of a mutual desperation to live. To be free of every puppet master pulling at the strings of your destiny. To return to living a life that was truly your own.

Yet, now that it was here…

Both of you were clueless how to navigate the aftermath.

You'd agreed to an attempt at cohabiting. Astarion had his reservations at the beginning, though he’s since thawed to the idea. As for yourself, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to living with another person. 

You lived alone prior to the Nautiloid. You were an urchin, having grown up on the streets of the Lower City for much of your life. You kept various blades hidden throughout your dwelling on the off chance an unwelcome visitor decided to drop by overnight. Astarion found most of them not long after moving in with you. He was slightly unsettled, but stated whimsically that he'd think twice before upsetting you going forward.

It had been months since the defeat of the Netherbrain, though Astarion still harbored many doubts. He'd often struggle with intense feelings of inadequacy and shame. He’d be ridden with such intense guilt that he'd lock himself away in your study for days, slipping out quietly during the night to hunt. He didn't dare let you see him in such a state.

And he didn't hunt often during these particular odd spells. Astarion will use his insatiable hunger as a form of self-discipline, purposely starving himself for days on end.

It's a repeating cycle. You don't quite understand why he does this to himself, and your attempts at getting him to speak never succeed. You settle on giving him space as being the best course of action.

When he inevitably emerges from his isolation, a different sort of hunger envelops him.

He seeks you out from your place within the house. Arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you feel the weight of him fall against your back. He buries his face in your neck, and you hear him inhale a shaky breath.

“Oh, hello,” you say to him, softly. “Are you feeling better?” You turn your body within his arms to face him. You push yourself onto the tips of your toes and nuzzle your nose against his.

He groans in mild protest and closes his eyes as you kiss the tip of his nose. “Somewhat,” he replies. He casts his eyes to the floor. “Missed you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Guilt clouds his eyes as he stares at the ground. “I missed you, too, Astarion.” He winces his eyes as you speak, his brows furrowing. Your words pain him, though you never quite understand why.

“I… I-I’m sorry,” he says with a shaky breath. You feel his hands begin to roam up your back. He grasps handfuls of your dress within his palms.

You step back from his hold, his expression dropping and his eyes staring wildly into yours. He's beginning to panic, overwhelming feelings of disgust and rejection displayed on his face. He's ready to run. He needs to hide again.

You bring your hands up to clasp each side of his face. “Astarion, listen to me,” you tell him, sternly. “I don't know what's going on in your head all of the time, but I'm here.” You guide his forehead down to rest upon your own. “You do not need to apologize for your darkness. I am here.”

The panic in Astarion's eyes begins to settle, and the tension ebbs from him. You step closer to him, still holding his face. Your lips graze his, and suddenly he's on you. One of his hands holds the back of your head and he crashes his lips onto yours, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

He asks to deepen your kiss with gentle passes of his tongue, and you part your lips and accept him into your mouth. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and you moan into his mouth.

“Need you,” Astarion begs between kisses. “Please, darling.” His voice is hoarse and rushed.

You pull your mouth from his, a small string of saliva connecting your lips in a brief moment. ‘“Do you hunger?” you ask, resting your forehead once more against his.

“Always,” he breathes out.

“Take me, then.” You kiss him gently once more. “Lose yourself in me, tonight.”

He shutters above you, hearing the same words he's deceived you with once before. He played a game in the beginning. Had a carefully thought out plan, designed to have you within his thrall. His plan fell through horrifically, and these same honeyed words now carry a more significant meaning.

Living with Astarion is intense, to say the least. Cyclical.

Nights of passion come in waves where you lay panting together, letting the breeze cool your sweat-soaked bodies. The only sounds heard during your couplings are the repeated slapping of his thighs meeting your behind with each of his thrusts, and your wanton moans as his length drags deliciously against the inner walls of your cunt. He fucks his apology into you thoroughly, and you couldn't be more happy to accept it.

This part of the cycle always starts off the same. You inform him that you're going to freshen up, and make your way into your shared bath. Astarion takes this as an opportunity to make your otherwise drab bedroom inviting for the coming main attraction. He places candles around your bedroom, lighting them as soon as he hears you stepping into the tub.

He blots on a bit more of his signature cologne: bergamot, brandy, and rosemary. He knows you enjoy this scent, knows that it brings you comfort. He strives to please you in every way possible, especially if it means making such a selfless act more enjoyable for you. He wears his ruffled blouse untucked, and loosens the laces of his trousers just enough to allow for what's to come.

You’re freshly bathed, a towel wrapped around your torso as you emerge from the bath. You enter your shared bedroom while drying your hair with a smaller bath towel, looking around to survey the soft ambiance of the room.

You see Astarion laying out on your bed. He's laying on his side and your eyes meet, the flickering candlelight causing his eyes to shine like gemstones. His eyes are hooded as he watches you move toward the bed.

You sit on the edge of your shared bed, feeling a faint flush spread across your face as you hold his gaze. Astarion glides a hand over the space on the bed next to him, a clear invitation for you to come closer. Your breath hitches and you bring your hands up to undo the towel covering your body.

You watch his eyes narrow as he follows the towel fall freely off your chest. His chest rises as he sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes scanning over your now-bare form. You feel paralyzed within his sight, though also proud. His reaction to viewing your naked form is similar with each encounter, solidifying that this is likely genuine. The thought brings you a sense of peace, willing you forward.

You begin to climb onto the bed and toward your vampiric lover. The bed dips beneath your palms and an all too familiar scent floods your nostrils, becoming stronger as you inch closer to him. You realize then that Astarion had reapplied his cologne while you were in the shower, just for you. The smell is intoxicating. So enticing, that you mindlessly continue crawling toward yet another brush with death.

A rush of uneasy energy surges through you as you reach Astarion. You fold your legs under you, and shaky hands come up to gently cradle both sides of his face. His eyes are molten lava that is melting through your core. He’s refuted your past claims of him charming you prior to these encounters, and your doubts continue for this very reason.

On these nights, your body becomes his. His to possess and manipulate however he pleases. You subjugate yourself to him, trusting him to take only as much as he needs from you. Trusting him to take you through the night and deliver you safely to the dawn. He's been honorable, thus far.

Though, there is always a time for everything.

His hand comes up to cover your own on his cheek. Astarion turns his face into your hand, kissing your palm. “Are you sure you want to do this, love?” he asks. His voice is a soft whisper.

Ruby red eyes glare up at you through hooded lids. His expression is soft, pleading. You quickly realize he's asking for more than what he's said. It's the one question he's never dared to put to words, though asks repeatedly in other ways.

You sigh and nod your head. You know the question he truly is asking, one that he's yet to ever form into words. “Yes, Astarion. I trust you. I trust you to not lose control.”

He seeks the constant reassurance that you accept him as he is. A constant reminder that he is more than the monster Cazador created.

[noisyquokka]

Hi hi! First, I'd like to say how wonderful your writing is and how much I enjoy it. It always makes me smile :)

Second, I have a request. Could you do a GN!reader with Minho where we feel and listen to each other's heartbeats? Maybe throw in a good kiss for extra flavor? I just think it would be really cute, and being a cardiophile who ults Minho, seeing a story like that would make my day.

No rush at all of course, and thank you for your amazing writing. Keep up the great work! ❤

Midnight Symphonies

PAIRING - Minho x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - What more is needed than the sweet song of your Lover's heartbeat in the silence of the night.

WORDCOUNT - 1.1k

WARNINGS - Fluff, Soft Cardiophilia, a tad suggestive? (more like petting and caressing idk), a soft and domestic Minho who just needs a good night's rest

A/N - Love this request so much!! I apologize for it being so short. I was hoping to make this a little longer, but I'm not a fan of writing more in only to have it feel forced. I hope I've done your request justice, Dearie 😅

It's been roughly a half hour since he walked through the door. You heard the apartment door click shut through your haze of sleep, footsteps pad down the hall, even the subtle rustling of clothes slipping off at the foot of the bed. The water running in the shower was the last thing to ring in your ears before you dozed off again.

It's late now; just a little past midnight when Minho slips into bed. Your brows twitch as the mattress dips behind you, the sheets flipped up so he could slide in beside you. A warm hand coming to rest at your waist. You instinctively lean into his touch, hips shifting against the mattress to lose that space between you. To find his warmth.

"Can't sleep?"

The question has you stifling a yawn, rolling over so you're facing him. He smells like evergreen and lavender, the notes coming together to wash over your senses. Utter tranquility.

"No... jus' heard you come in." You mumble. 

"Sorry."

"You're fine, Babe."

Minho shifts until he's lying on his back, eyes closed as he pulls you on top of him. Your body settles into his embrace, falling into place as if you're the missing piece to his puzzle. Slender fingers run up and down the length of your spine, callouses coaxing you back into a sleepy haze as the minutes tick on. Your head falls against his chest and with that, the sure and steady thump thump of his heart hits your eardrums. It's the perfect metronome, as if his very existence were a symphony. It's more than enough to lull you back into that liminal space between conscious response and dreams. Though you're not quite ready to go back there yet.

"How was practice?" The palm of your hand travels as you pop the question, tired limbs and muscles twitching beneath soft flesh. 

"Good." He hums, lungs swelling under you only to release a great sigh. You can tell he's exhausted, if not by the short responses, by how needy he's being. Strong arms keep you pressed against his chest, lips making contact with your scalp. "Just glad to be home."

You smile at that, picking your head up to trail a few kisses of your own over the expanse of his chest, the skin dewy and warm from the shower. Minho purrs, his fingertips sweeping over the swell of your hip and you glance up to catch the beginnings of a lazy smile pulling his lips. He searches for your hand among the sheets, a short hunt that ends with your elbow propped up on his chest and lips ghosting over your wrist. Your pulse spikes at the contact. Brown eyes find yours in the dim lighting of the bedroom, half-lidded and malleable in your presence. 

"Feeling's mutual." You murmur, observing the way his fingers press into the underside of your wrist. The action alone is something so simple yet so... intimate. 

You've always found the sound of Minho's heartbeat to be hypnotic, to feel the muscle quicken under your touch. Strong and steady. Minho has never been opposed to the ritual. In fact, he'd been more curious than anything when you first brought it up. Now, you often find yourselves in bed like this— a mess of limbs and tangled sheets, few words spoken because you're both enamored by the life force that keeps both of you going. 

Minho has his own way of reciprocating. What started out as the subtle nuzzling of his head against your chest turned deliberate, always accompanied by the warmth of his hands sweeping over your flesh in search of your pulse points. His actions are always attentive and measured, even when he's trying to be subtle about it, having spent more than enough time discovering what makes your heart tick. 

Right now is no exception.

He's tracing small, soft patterns into the underside of your wrist, his fingertips dancing along the skin lightly enough to make you shiver. You let him continue his ministrations, your eyelids drooping as his hand slides up your forearm in a soothing manner. A ghost's caress.

"You trying to get me back to sleep?" You ask, your voice nothing more than a whisper. 

"Maybe I am." He mutters with a lazy smirk, a light grunt leaving his throat as he hikes your body further up the mattress. So you're draped over him. So that your chests are level with one another. That hand slips back down to your wrist, fingers dancing over the veins. Lingering on each as he explores the delicate network of veins hidden beneath the thin flesh. 

Each move is deliberate, but Minho is much too tired to tease. He's simply taking his time. Touching just to touch. But when he finally pinpoints the surge of blood running through your veins, you swear you're melting like butter on warm pancakes. 

Minho moves to adjust the position of your body, bringing you impossibly closer. Pressing you against his own frame. There's a pause. Brown eyes taking you in. An uptick in his heartbeat, you can feel it against your own. Then he's leaning in and you can't resist meeting him halfway. 

It's a slow kiss— a wave that crashes against your ribs and leaves you aching, a heat settling in your soul like the last burning embers of a fire. Minho breathes you in, feels your heart pounding against your ribs the same as his. His fingers run down the curve of your spine, sending shivers down your back as Minho shifts and pulls back. He presses another kiss to your forehead, eyes fluttering in exhaustion.

"Get some sleep, hm?" He whispers against your temple, his arms winding around you as your bodies entangle in one another.

"Alright," you murmur, snuggling up against him. Your muscles relax in his hold, loosening with every back and forth of his thumb. You let out a tiny sigh, resting your head against Minho's shoulder. 

Sleep is catching up to you, but you can't bring yourself to fall back into that liminal space right now. Not yet, anyway. You are content to simply lie here with him, skin-to-skin, feeling his heart pulse against your chest. Listening as his breathing regulates and those loving caresses slow until there's nothing but two souls tangled up in each other. 

Sleep can find you sooner or later. 

Right now, this is enough.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[skinwalker-bratz]

Eyeless jack cheating headcannons

Just because I'm traumatized and rarely have happy scenarios with my S/O characters unless they're women.

Warnings: angst, depression, cheating and mild nsfw.

-I'm very traumatized by relationships, but I still can't see Jack cheating on you, not out of pure willpower.

- but there are two scenarios in which he could do this: scenario 1 would be if he only had the opportunity to eat the victim if he had sex with them (for me he doesn't eat just kidneys but he can eat the whole person), or in scenario 2 if he met another demon.

- starting with scenario number 1, which doesn't make sense because Jack has much more strength than any human, so he doesn't need to have sex with the victim to devour them, he can easily overpower a person especially when he's hungry.

- but if it happens, he'll feel like shit and humiliated because he literally had to have sex with a human who is much weaker than him just to have dinner one night and betray his lover.

- so that leaves scenario 2, which is more likely to happen, and get ready because it's going to hurt a lot.

- in scenario 2 he will meet another demon (gender unspecified because my EJ is bisexual) and if this other demon is in heat, Jack will automatically go into heat too.

- he'll be very attracted to the other demon, to the point of forgetting that you exist, and if the other demon is up to the standards that EJ is most attracted to, that's it for him.

- like if the other demon have a small body and easy to dominate, Jack will fall to his knees for them. Bonus if they look good.

- When Jack comes to his senses, he'll try to stay as far away from the other demon as possible because he respects you and doesn't want to lose your trust, which has obviously been built up over time and it would be stupid to lose it so quickly.

- But if he doesn't hold back, he might not speak to you for a few days. Obviously you'll be worried, you'll text him but he doesn't answer, you'll call him but he doesn't answer, you'll ask the other creeps but they can't answer where he is.

- you might think something has happened to him, you'll get really worried and paranoid, imagining a thousand scenarios of how he might have been captured, if he's seriously injured somewhere and slowly dying or if he's already dead. And it will get to the point where you can't eat properly thinking about having lost your Jack.

- the other creeps will also be worried but maybe they'll just think he's just hunting or doesn't want contact now, maybe because he's depressed or something.

- when he comes back he won't want to look you in the face. He feels extremely guilty and dirty about what he's done, but he won't say anything so as not to lose your trust, he'll just make up an excuse for everything that's happened.

- Until the other demon started coming for EJ, he fell in love with them, and now he's all over them. Jack can't resist either and even though it feels wrong, he goes out every night while you sleep.

- EJ is becoming more and more attracted to the other demon than to you, his touch, smell and voice are very intoxicating, Jack is losing more and more of the attraction he had for you.

- the other demon is much more attractive than you in Jack's view, he starts spending more time with them, and all the relationship plans EJ had with you are forgotten.

- Over time you realize that Jack is becoming more and more distant from you, the moments of affection are becoming rare and the nights when you have sex are even rarer.

- you start to feel alone, you see other couples being happy together and having mutual affection but not you and Jack, you start to feel single within a relationship.

- you start to worry, maybe his mental health is fucked in some way, so you tell him if he needs to talk you'll be there to listen.

- you've had depression once, and you know how much it destroys you, so you don't want to see Jack destroyed too, you don't want to lose him.

- Until one night you wake up and look over, you see that Jack isn't around, and as you're thirsty and your bottle is empty, you decide to go to the kitchen to fill it up.

- as the mansion is huge, the trip to the kitchen has put you out of sleep and you notice that EJ is nowhere to be found, you look for him in the mansion and ask the nocturnal creeps but they haven't seen him.

- You return to your room but now come to new conclusions about your boyfriend's disappearance: what if he's hiding something or doing something he doesn't want you to know about? What if he's cheating on you? Now you're starting to get angry with him.

- You see him coming back through the window and you stand in the doorway staring at him, your eyes are piercing, you're clearly someone to be taken seriously, after all, you live in the Slendermansion for a reason.

- he also stares at you, but not as seriously as you, he's even a little intimidated by your gaze because he knows he's done something wrong.

- you ask for an explanation, he tries to think of another excuse but he feels it's not a good idea to do that, so he says everything. Looking down and half-shrinking like a dog with its tail between its legs.

- Now how you react is all up to you.

[film-noir-nosferatu]

🔪🫀🎬🍷🦷🦞🥃🥩🩸☕🧠🤍

May 20th, 2024: In the middle of the night, I felt immediate inspiration and the craving to draw these two. Watching and listening to them, while drawing them, is therapeutic in its own way. Something about the Hannibal show is just so therapeutic... anyone who has seen it through, beginning to end, will tell you the same. It's a transformative experience to watch, all the way through. I watched 'Dolce' and 'Digestivo' (two episodes, midway in season 3) to immerse and feel something. It was great. Just a little something impulsive and inspired, after a very hard and painful evening. It was therapy, it was my comfort, it was my safe place, it was my healing. Hannibal has been a huge tool in my comfort and coping while enduring a hell, and a therapeutic source for me before I had that resource available to me. I do now, too!!

I am extremely proud of this peice, as it went off complete feeling and no reference photos at all. It was just... book and TV show Will and Hannibal, from my mind. Heavy on the show. This is the VERY first time I drew Will (portrayed himself and Hugh Dancy, the first time I drew Will I drew myself: him), and my second time drawing Hannibal. Er... Second time drawing Mads Mikkelsen, too, but this one was with no reference. It's simply, Hannibal and will, and their Cat and Mouse chemistry. The hunt, of both, closing in around one another. Trapped in their mutual, locked in sights. Only fixed, upon one another.♥️🥀🀄

ALSO!!! I GOT MY TICKET TO MY VERY FIRST HANNIBAL CONVENTION, RED DRAGON CON 7, THAT WILL HAPPEN IN 2025!!! SEE YOU SOON, ENGLAND! SEE YOU SOON, MADS & HUGH! SEE YOU SOON, TO THIS HUGE DREAM!! And you best believe I'll be cosplaying Will Graham and my version of Clarice Starling. 🔪🥩🥗🫀🦞🍷🥖🥃🦪 I'm starved and ready to EAT, SLAY, and SERVE! 🎬🧠🎫🀄💮

>>> See Art Masterlist? <<<

[ellena-asg]

I'm thinking about that moment in Tortuga where James says to Joshamee "So, do I make your crew or not? You haven't said where you're going. SOMEWHERE NICE?!". Yeah, I know he is irritated, bitter, sarcastic, unhappy and 100% a mess after losing his job and everything he had. But...

He is also drunk. Very drunk. And very... alone. What if alcohol makes him more open? What if James' question is, yes, bitter but... also sincere? What if the bitterness is in that moment caused by the bigger pain? What if frustration is caused by jealousy and loneliness?

Yes, I think that James may be jealous (but not in negative way) and damn lonely. Just look at his life portrayed in both: The Curse of the Black Pearl and Sins of the father (cause this book adds so much to James' bio).

His father was like "Pirates are the worst and you have to be anti pirate. If you are anti pirate then you are a cool kid". His society is like "We are noble, we are right, we have money, we serve the king, we obey the rules, we are cool". So James serves and obeys, he (unlike Lizzie) lets society to completely devour him, he has his career and place amongst the people but... not really.

Father abused and didn't really care about him. People respect him mostly as an officer and "fine gentleman". We see no friends around him. Gillette, Groves? Their relationship with James is shown as rather professional. Lizzie? At the beginning of the first movie they don't have any bond with each other. There is mutual respect and kindness but there's no friendship yet. Papa Swann? He is kind to James, sure. But James seems to still feel alone. He looks terribly lonely (shout out to amazing Jack Davenport). In so many scenes we see him standing in Dramatic Pose and looking at other people with these Sad Sad Eyes.

We see him working and working and working. Serving and obeying. Being many people's dog. Still feeling like "not enough" to some of them. Even his love for the sea (and him being a sailor) is somewhere in the background.

And then there is his proposal. He sees that Lizzie is very nervous but instead of "she doesn't like me in romantic way" he seems to have some hope that she will say yes and that he will finally have someone to love (and who will love him back - maybe). But soon he loses that hope. Lizzie falls, he meets Jack again, Will pops up too, pirates now are everywhere...

And what do James' eyes see? Jack isn't like those pirates from Norrington Sr.'s horror tales. Jack isn't evil. Jack has good manners. Jack is clever. Jack has his charm - and it works even on anti pirate people! (Groves and his "Best pirate I have ever seen OMG", Murtogg and Mullroy and their "Why won't we listen to Captain's advice and..."). Oh, for sure he has it. Joshamee Gibbs, a decent person and once a Navy's man joined his crew! And mr Gibbs seems to be happy with his new life. William Turner, the biggest cinnamon roll in the town - he met Sparrow and five minutes later they're best friends forever! And they have fun together. They have adventures together. They do friendly things for each other (Will defends Jack, he is ready to die for and with him!!!). Elizabeth Swann, the sweetest and wisest girl James has ever met, she... she is Jack's friend too! And she loves Will (a pirate!), she's going to marry Will! She is amongst pirates. She seems to be safe and happy with them. Papa Swann, even Papa Swann is now like "Err... I love Lizzie and Lizzie loves Will so I should love Will too, I guess. By the way, James, you can try to hunt Jack Sparrow and his pirates but Lizzie won't be happy, just saying".

Jack, Joshamee and their crew, Lizzie, Will... They all have now what James never had and what he still secretly wants (oh, I bet!). They have each other. They have friendship. They have love. They go where they want and do what their hearts want. They have freedom.

They are like found family having adventures, seeing places and sometimes being heroes to other people (being heroes without being someone's dogs). Being there for each other. Even when they lose something, they still have each other. They are brave in a way James can't be (oh, not yet). Strong, full of hope and so free. Always so free. Always so ready to fight.

They have it all. James at the end of COTBP has only his job and, still, his bitterness for pirates (so as always, nothing nice). James at the beginning of DMC has nothing. He lost ships, he lost career, he lost home and he's alone.

James' father and his society always were like "Pirates are outsiders, you are with us so you're a cool kid". But what if... when James looks at Lizzie, Will, Jack & Co, he thinks "No! THEY are cool kids and I feel like an outsider"? What if such thought hits him hard when he sees Jack's crew in that tavern? When he sees them again, after all what happened to him (and because of them). He sees them and they are like always: together, okay with their life no matter what, so damn strong and prepared for the future. They lose - they try again - they win. He always loses. He's always alone. What if that damn hurricane was a sign?

What if, when he sees them doing their things and when he's so alone and lost and so drunk... what if something inside him finally breaks?

And what if he joins them not only because of Lizzie wanting to help him and finally being his friend but first and foremost because he finally can do what he wants? He's free now (from his duties, from his father's ghost, from his society). He doesn't have to hunt pirates. Maybe he doesn't have to be so salty... He's lost. And he wants to belong. What if he can belong to their pirate pack? Oh, alcohol makes him very open.

So, do I make your crew or not? You haven't said where you're going. Somewhere nice?!

Somewhere nice would be great. Right, Jamie? You crave for nice things in your life. Being part of the pack would be nice, right?

James: Do I belong or NOT?! 😭

(but oh, soon he is sober and he looks like an outsider again, he watches Lizzie interacting with her pirates and looks like "How do they do all that friendship stuff? And... sea turtles? What sea turtles?! What are they talking about? They're so... I can't. I don't belong, I'm afraid. I'd better go back to previous life and..." 😢)

[torukmaktoskxawng]

tsamsiyu ta’em - on the move, desert fox

Masterlist - part six

Summary: Kayla feels useless to Jake's cause against the RDA and as you might expect, it's hard to convince Toruk Makto that you're ready to be a warrior.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 7k+

Taglist (bold indicates “could not tag”): @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx​ @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

Warnings: canon-compliant, canon-typical violence, mature language, adult content, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, alien/human (technically avatar), jake sully sister agenda, time skips, I'm trying to hurry up and get to the good parts so bear with me, fluff, angst, adopted spider, tags to be added

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Welcome to the events of AtWoW!

A FEW MONTHS LATER...

The maglev run should've been something up Kayla's alley, but alas, she wasn't ready to fly an ikran let alone run a task force. Or at least, that's what all her teachers have told her. Until she can hunt and make a clean kill, she couldn't claim a banshee. However, it was possible for her to run ground team assaults on any RDA convoy they hit astride a pa'li. Kayla wouldn't mind that since even Neytiri believes that she makes an excellent rider. At the very least, she could make herself useful instead of helping Kiri or Jocelyn tend to the wounded Na'vi and avatars whenever they come home from these tight-knit missions her brother organizes. 

Instead, she's trapped at High Camp, bored, twiddling her thumbs while standing around in her avatar towering over Jocelyn while the biotech is observing a bit of plant life her two Na'vi boyfriends had brought her. Or at least, that's who Kayla assumes they are. As she noticed before, the two young Omatikaya warriors always bring something back for Jocelyn in their travels and she always tends to follow them around in return. Jocelyn had introduced the two males to Kayla as Txe'la and Meui, to which Kayla struggled but was able to realize their names were derived from 'heart' and 'honor' fittingly. They each represented their names in many ways. While Txe'la is easily more gentle and kind, Meui is respectable but stern. They aren't brothers as she had recently thought, but are childhood friends and orphans from the Last Battle. Kayla never asked, but she could safely assume they were a mated pair, and by watching how they interact with Jocelyn, the avatar wondered if all three's feelings toward each other were mutual. 

Kayla knew Jocelyn a little better now and can safely say that the human female was a good mixture of both Txe'la and Meui. When all three were together, they perfectly evened each other out, but it was hard to tell if all three of them were officially 'together'. Still, despite the even number, Kayla felt like a fourth wheel when Jocelyn had politely invited her into their tight little circle for the day. It was sweet of the biotech to try and distract the avatar woman from the absence of the war party, but unnecessary. Kayla didn't need to be entertained, at least not by a biotech who is more interested in the plants held out to her in Txe'la's hands so Jocelyn could take samples.

"Attack! Attack!"

Kayla's little niece, on the other hand, is far more entertaining, holding a toy toruk in her hand and mimicking flight as she ran around. Tuk dove between Txe'la and Meui, interrupting Jocelyn's sampling when the young girl flew her toy in front of the woman's face, "Gotcha!"

Kayla and the men laugh while Jocelyn threw her arms up in offense, clearly exasperated as the little girl ran away, "Tuk! Come on!" She reprimanded. 

The girl didn't react to Jocelyn, not a care in the world as she ran off to continue playing. Kayla laughed under her breath and shook her head fondly while Txe'la reels Jocelyn's attention back to the leaf, calming her bristle. The little girl had run out of sight by the time horns of war were blown, echoing off the cave system's walls, announcing the return of the war party. All heads turn in the direction of the sound, straining their necks to search for loved ones as ikran slowly glide through the cave entrances to find perches. Kayla made a step toward the landing zone, but Jocelyn whisked her in the opposite direction, asking for her help in case any avatars from the war party returned wounded. Reluctantly, Kayla agreed and followed the smaller woman back to the Longhouse and prepared their medical equipment. Before long, the avatars duck their heads into the marui to greet the others, either to announce they're okay or if they need medical attention. Jocelyn and Kayla get to work on the wounded but thankfully, they were only cuts and bruises, and even made pleasant conversation as they bandaged their patients.

Norm Spellman, tall in his human and currently even taller in his avatar form, struts in, and Kayla immediately clocks in her friend's presence, breaking away from a dismissed patient and moving over to him, "Norm! Are--"

"All Sullys are alive and accounted for," he smirks, "But thanks for the concern, Kayla."

"Shut up, you're fine." She shoves his face away from her, internally relieved about the news of her family, "Big baby."

Norm laughs and shoves her back, which she ignores as she continued, "But be honest, they're alright?"

"Yeah, they're fine. Neteyam walked away with a few scratches, but that's the worst of it, I promise."

She sighs in relief, then for added measure, gives Norm an added shove.

After helping Lo'ak with the ikran, Spider follows the Sully boy to the tsahik tent where Tuk, Kiri, and Mo'at were already tending to Neteyam. The human boy stayed there, gently teasing Neteyam about his boo-boo, and only left once Neytiri and Jake were no longer guarding the entrance of the tent. It's not that Spider was scared of them -somewhat lie- but it appeared as though the parents were having an intense conversation that Spider did not want to interrupt, so he hung out with the Sully kids until the coast was clear and he left, heading home.

The Avatar Longhouse was on the edge of camp, and upon checking in with Max, Spider went looking for one avatar in particular since he had yet to see her since the war party returned. He found her inside the Longhouse, among the large crowds of Na'vi-like bodies towering over Spider as he weaved through them, avoiding tails and swinging arms. In turn, the avatars noticed him and did their best to stay out of his way and be careful where they stepped. Kayla was off to the side, found rummaging through a crate for bandages when Spider approached the tall avatar.

He taps her arm for attention, "Hey, heads up," Kayla looks down instead once she recognized his voice, and finds his eyes immediately, "Lo'ak got grounded."

She raised an eyebrow, suspicious, "Okay... You're telling me this why?"

"I'm letting you know that I'm bringing him around later so he can whine at you instead of me."

Her expression falls into a blank, deadpan expression, "You're very noble, kid," she stated sarcastically, to which the teenager laughs even as she thumps him with her tail. Kayla rolls her eyes and motions to the exit, "Go on, get outta here."

As he walks away, she calls after him, "And bring Kiri, too!"

"Okay, 'Mom.'" Kayla spun around at Norm's taunt, and he grins, ears perking up in delight when she flashed an irritated expression.

"Shut up, I didn't mean it like that."

"Oh, I know," he replied smugly, earning a roll of bandages to the face and getting laughed at by other humans and avatars.

The kids showed back up at the Longhouse shortly after dinner, sneaking into the avatar marui to greet them. Kayla looked up from lounging on her nivi and expectedly spotted the usual three suspects, Spider, Lo'ak, and Kiri, one usually never seen without the other two like the trio they were. 

Norm spots the three teenagers as well amidst brushing his teeth and calls out, "Hey, Spider!"

Spider barely turned his head before his back is slapped by the tail-end of a wound-up towel, pointing an accusing finger up at Spellman as he passed by, "Your ass is mine."

"I'm right here!" Norm exclaimed smugly with the toothbrush in his mouth, arms open in invitation. 

But Spider knows better than to go against someone twice his size and moves on, leading his friends through the chaos of avatars. Jocelyn catches sight of the three teens as she glanced away from a patient she was bandaging up and scowled.

"Avatars only," Jocelyn berated as Kiri walked past, "Go around!"

Kiri wasn't bothered and even mocks Jocelyn in a high-pitched tone with a small bit of attitude. Lo'ak, trailing behind his sister, genuinely looked guilty as he passed by Jocelyn, "Sorry."

The kids head for the biolab and that's Kayla's cue to disconnect the neuro-link, all the while waving at the human woman down the way from her hammock, "I got this, don't worry about it. Kids!" She calls out to the trio, "Come on, wait up!"

"Wait for me," Norm exclaimed while getting cozy in his own nivi.

Leaning back in her hammock, Kayla closes her eyes and expertly disconnected from her avatar, opening her eyes again to see the inside ceiling of her link bay. She waits until she hears her gurney moving back into its inactive position before manually opening the lid herself, taking a deep breath of oxygen, and flexing her human fingers. Hearing Max and Norm talking, Kayla pushes away the censor cage and sits up, groaning slightly at the rush of blood pumping to her brain, causing a headache behind her eyes from lying down for too long. She gathers herself before hopping off the gurney, finding her footing as the teens walk into the biolab, having been beaten to the lab by Norm and Kayla, now in their human forms.

While she was grabbing for an oxygen mask, Kiri felt a tug on her tail and she immediately made a grab for Spider, who in turn moved out of her reach as they playfully hiss and claw the air at each other. Kiri takes a glimpse behind Spider and politely waves, "Hey, Max."

"Hey, kids!"

"Hey, what's up, Max?" Spider briefly forgets playtime and approaches Max as the older man offers the teen a fistbump, who grins in reply.

"What up."

Lo'ak nods his head over to the scientists, "What's up, Norm?"

"Lo'ak!" Norm raised his arm in greeting, beaming over at the Sully boy until Spider swiftly goes in for his revenge, jabbing Norm in the exposed armpit with all his strength. Norm flinches away, guarding his pit as he hissed in pain while Spider wore a proud, shit-eating grin.

"Easy, kiddo," Kayla rounds the corner of Norm's link gurney, arms open wide for her niece and nephew as she flashes Spider a smirk, "Leave that poor old man alone."

"Hey, Auntie!" Kiri exclaims while leaning down to hug the woman, breaking away after Kayla gently tugs at the beads in the teen girl's short hair.

Norm groans while rubbing the now sore part of his armpit, wincing at the spot that'll no doubt bruise there. He snipes back at Kayla with playful irritants and points an accusatory finger, "And just for that, you get sanitize duty!"

She rolls her eyes in response, moving over to grab a spray bottle and a rag before tilting her head toward the link bays, "Hey, Lo'ak! Help me out here, would ya?"

Lo'ak obediently jogs over, letting the others go about their own things, "Yeah, Auntie?"

After a brief instruction, they get to work wiping down the gurneys, splitting up the task in order to get done faster. Kayla waits until they're halfway done to speak up, "So I overheard you got grounded from flying? Must've been pretty serious. What happened?" 

Silence follows and this causes Kayla to look up. Immediately, she sees shame flash over her nephew's yellow eyes and concern immediately flashes over her smaller blue ones, "Lo'ak? Hey... hey," her tone drops to something soft and gentle, "What's the matter, kiddo?"

He takes a deep breath and tells her everything that happened during the mission, sometimes without taking a second between sentences to breathe. Lo'ak was clearly distressed about the whole situation and adds how he got grounded as a result. Kayla patiently stands and waits for him to finish, listening intently without ever making a sound. By the end of his rant, the teen boy finally takes a real, deep breath, shoulders slouching in defeat. He hangs his head, eyes staring down at his feet while his ears pinned back against his skull. The motion frightens Kayla, sometimes having to second-guess and make sure she was talking to Lo'ak instead of Jake, the similarities are still so uncanny to her.

"I nearly got Neteyam killed today." He muttered weakly.

Her eyes widen, lips forming a sneer of disgust, "Did your father tell you that?" When he doesn't respond, it's enough of an answer to make Kayla snarl loudly as if she still had Na'vi fangs, "That son of a-- I swear someday I'm going to rip the braid from his skull--"

"It's fine, Auntie, really," Lo'ak muttered, a little embarrassed and keeping his gaze at his feet, "It's the truth. I made Neteyam break a rule."

"You didn't make Neteyam do anything," Kayla steps forward and places her hand on her nephew's forearm, "He's a big boy and he can choose to listen to you or not. Yes, what you did was wrong, but you didn't force your brother to do the same. He made that choice all on his own."

When he doesn't respond, Kayla tugs his arm to gain his attention. Lo'ak gets the message and lets Kayla guide him to sit on the link gurney next to them. Kayla places both hands on his arms once he sits, now sunken down to her height, "My brother asks too much from you boys. I know you want to be big and strong warriors, but you are still considered boys-- children."

When he flashes a small glare, Kayla retorts back, "Don't give me that look Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. On Earth, you have to be eighteen years old to be considered an adult, and even then you're not considered fully grown until you're in your late twenties."

Lo'ak tries to laugh but immediately regrets it, wincing in pain and screwing his eyes shut. Kayla's lecture instantly melts into concern, "Hey... what's wrong?"

"My head hurts." He muttered.

Kayla's hands reach behind her nephew's head, gingerly poking around the back of the skull for a bump or bruise, "Did you hit your head when you got tossed in the explosion?"

"... Maybe?"

Her distaste returns, but it's not directed at Lo'ak, "That does it," once she muffles Lo'ak's big ears with her tiny hands, she shouts over her shoulder, "Norm! Max! Please check on Lo'ak and see if he's got a concussion," her eyes are suddenly shrouded with a dark expression and she pulls away from her nephew, "I'm gonna go give his father one of his own."

Norm and Max arrive with a trauma kit, the former and taller scientist sarcastically responding, "Don't be stupid, Kayla... if you're gonna do it, go get your avatar first."

Max sighed, exasperated by his fellow humans' dynamic, "Guys..."

He doesn't push the subject, however, and instead tends to Lo'ak while Kayla goes stomping off to grab a breather mask and pack then abruptly leaves the lab. She doesn't ever stop to greet or speak to anyone, her mind on a mission as she stomps in a straight line to her destination. Jake was already there, standing outside the Sully marui when she arrived, and one glance at her and he knew he was about to earn himself one big headache. 

She doesn't stop until she's close enough that she has to crane her neck up at him, staring up with an incredulous expression, "So Lo'ak told me what happened."

"Kayla--"

"He also told me he hit his head during the explosion. Did he happen to mention that to you?" Immediately, Jake's eyes widen and his ears flatten, shock and fear crossing over his blue-striped features. Kayla tilts her head, sarcastically curious, "No? I mean, how could he? You were too busy lecturing him."

Guilt and fright were still evident on his face, even when Jake appeared to be fighting a battle in his mind, shuffling his feet and looking away to find whatever answer he was looking for elsewhere. When he couldn't find it, he glance back down at his sister, "Is he--"

"He's fine. Max and Norm are watching him closely. At least they are capable of keeping an eye on him."

Jake's shoulders visibly relax at the news before moving over to sit on his weapon's crate. The tired olo'eykan leaned his elbows against his knees, rubbing his aging face with one hand while trying to take deep breaths. Eventually, he gains the courage again to be defiant against his younger sibling, "I can't be Toruk Maktoand a father on the battlefield at the same time, Kayla."

She crosses her arms and pops a hip, letting the hiss of her mask fill in the silence when she breathes, "Then I suggest you choose one over the other and get your priorities straight. 'Cause at this rate, you won't be able to be a father to them until after the Sky People are sent away again, and when exactly is that happening? Three years? Ten years?" He looked away, defeated because they both knew she was right. Children of war know better than others just how long anarchy lasts. Jake glares down at the ground in front of him, not even blinking when Kayla stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, "By the time you're ready to be their father again, your boys will be grown and possibly have sons of their own. Are you willing to miss all that?"

"For the sake of their safety and their future?" His expression hardened, cold and authoritative once more when he flicks his eyes back to her, "What kind of father would I be if I didn't sacrifice that? If I can't watch them grow up, fine. But I'll fight this war until I've secured their chances of having a better life, even if it means sacrificing whatever time I have left with them."

Kayla's face falls behind the glass of her mask, her expression shattered and pitiful to the point Jake forced himself to look away. He didn't need his sister's pity. After a few long moments of silence, Kayla squeezes his shoulder, "You know... maybe if you let me fight, you wouldn't have to carry that burden alone. If the two of us led the war, maybe it could get done faster and you can worry more about your sons and daughters instead of gunships and bullets."

Jake shook his head even before Kayla could finish her sentence, "No, Kay. You're not ready."

She frowns, "Norm said you became one of the People in just a few months. Guess what? It's been a few months for me."

"Within those few months, I managed to gain an ikran," he snipes back, shaking his head when she rolled her eyes, "I'm not trying to compare, but that's the law of the Omatikaya. I need you in the sky instead of on the ground, therefore, I need you to get a banshee. And to get a banshee--"

"I know, I know," Kayla sighed, exhausted from hearing the same excuse over and over again, "I need to make a clean kill when I hunt."

"It's not just that. The Forest hasn't given you permission to kill. You need to wait to hunt until that exact time."

She flashes a doubtful, incredulous look. Even Jake could admit he sounded crazy for a former human. He understood where his sister was coming from. He didn't believe this tree-hugging crap either when he first started out. Crazy or not, Kayla wasn't backing down from his reasoning, "But how can I take the time to hunt when I'm too busy healing all the wounded you send my way after all your missions? Perhaps you should slow down so I can catch up?"

"I thought you wanted me to hurry up and finish this war so I can be with my family sooner than later?"

Silence follows the glare set between the Sully siblings, Na'vi against human, before Kayla is the first to look away and snarl a few choice words under her breath, "Touché, Sully. Just..." She sighs, calming down until she's back to being a concerned aunt again, "Just go and check on Lo'ak, alright? It'll mean something to him if you do."

~~~~~~~~~

They should've known better. Nothing, not even being grounded from flying, would stop Lo'ak from having fun. Had he remembered this, maybe Jake would have asked Kayla to watch the kids while he, Neytiri, and Neteyam went out on patrol. But at the moment, Jake was pointedly avoiding his sister and she was avoiding him. Instead, Jake took off with his wife and firstborn and Kayla kept busy by assisting Norm with taking some samples while both of them were driving their avatars. It had been getting late in the afternoon and eclipse was supposed to happen soon. Kayla broke her focus and looked around for the first time in hours, realizing that she hadn't seen the rest of her family all day, "Hey. Have you seen the kids at all?"

Norm looked up at her question then proceeded to look around, "I don't think so."  

He moved to the front of the biolab building and peered in through the window, "Huh."

"What?"

"Spider's spare is still in there," Norm turned back to Kayla and shrugged, "They probably didn't go far."

"Probably? Do you actually believe that?" She flashed a pointed look.

Doubt began to crawl into Norm's mind until he couldn't deny it, wincing at how dumb he looked, "... Shit."

Before Kayla could even call it in, she heard Lo'ak's voice in her earpiece as he called through a public channel meant for the Sullys, "Devil Dog, Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye, over."

"Wait," Kayla orders Norm, one hand out while the other one presses into her earpiece, listening closely.

"Eagle Eye, send your traffic." Jake's voice responds.

"What's going on?" Norm whispered, unable to hear the conversation.

Kayla flaps her hand sporadically at him and hissed, "Shh!"

"I got eyes on some guys," Lo'ak continued, "They look like avatars... but they're in full camo and carrying ARs. There's six of them. Over."

"What's your POS? Over."

"Um... we're at the old shack."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Spider, Kiri... and Tuk."

Silence rings over the radio call and Kayla winced, picturing the rage likely dawning on her brother's face as he sternly spoke, "Son, you listen to me very carefully. You pull back right now. Do not make a sound. You get the hell out of there. Move! You copy?"

"Yes, sir. Moving out."

"Desert Fox, did you read that?"

Kayla straightens her posture at the sound of Jake addressing her, pressing her fingers into the buttons of her throat mic, "Copy that, Devil Dog."

"I got Pathfinder and Clever Arrow with me," Kayla recounts Neteyam and Neytiri's call signs in her head and nods despite Jake not being able to see her as he continued, "We're Oscar Mike. If you don't hear back from us in three hundred mikes, send backup. Over."

"Lima Charlie. Over and out."

The radio signal cuts out and Kayla ditches her samples, jogging away while Norm follows close behind her, stumbling, "Hey, wait! Kayla, what is going on?!"

Together, Kayla and Norm informed entrusted Na'vi and avatar warriors about the situation should the worst happen. Kayla tells Mo'at in order for the tsahik to shepherd others around her and start a prayer for her family's return, but Kayla herself doesn't join the gathering. Instead, she finds herself pacing for the most part as the sky grows dark and it starts to rain, only worrying the ex-marine further. She was growing antsy as the hours drag on, wishing to send a war party after her family but dutifully waited until the three-hundred-minute mark. To keep her hands occupied, Mo'at had her get started on making her very own songcord, even though Kayla's heart wasn't all into it at the time. She weaved threads and beads almost unconsciously without giving it much thought to the point where Mo'at clicked at her in disapproval.

"It is supposed to be personal," the tsahik lectured, "It is a song for only you to know and others to learn when you sing. To create it, you must put your whole heart and soul into your waytelem. You cannot mindlessly thread impersonal items into the cord as nì'eveng would with their bracelets."

Kayla's flat nose scrunched up when her brain managed to decipher Mo'at's insult in Na'vi but otherwise said nothing against her, instead taking the whole songcord apart and promising the tsahik that she will start on a proper one when she is not as anxious. When Mo'at opens her mouth to scold Kayla, a voice abruptly startles the female avatar when it comes out like static through her earpiece.

"Desert Fox, do you copy? This is Devil Dog, over."

Kayla's tail and ears stuck straight up as she quickly bids Mo'at a quick apology before pressing her throat mic, "I read you, Devil Dog. What's your status? Over. "

"Coming in hot, T-minus ten minutes. We also got Pathfinder and Clever Arrow flying in with passengers. Clear the landing zone, over."

"Lima Charlie," Kayla walks with determination in the direction of the said landing zone, "Shall I prep med bay? Over."

Mo'at gets the message and retreats to her healing pod as Jake's voice patches back through, "Negative. Negative on med bay, over." 

Kayla sighs in relief, waiting for her heart to slow down before pressing the mic again, "Copy that. Over and out."

She yells in the direction of the Longhouse, screaming Norm and Max's names before running in the direction of High Camp's main cave entrance. Kayla noticed how a small population of the clan was swarming the area meant for ikran to land their riders and spoke in her best but broken Na'vi to ask everyone to clear the way as their clan leader would be returning soon. 

Strange stares were sent her way but the Na'vi all appeared to have understood as they all begin to scatter and make way. Kayla's breath catches in her throat when she heard a group of ikran flying in from below. In a fell swoop of fast, hard-beaten wings, three banshees emerge, momentarily hovering over the landing zone before touching down. The ikran exhaled heavily through their many breath holes, exhausted from all the weight they carried. Kayla lets out a sigh of relief when she easily recognized her nieces and nephews, all safe and jumping down from Jake, Neytiri, and Neteyam's ikran. Both parents and eldest child also appeared unharmed, though they looked a little worse for wear. Kayla is the only one in the gathering crowd of Na'vi to approach the family, and once Tuk caught sight of her, the little girl burst into tears and ran right up to her, arms spread wide. Kayla automatically fell to her knees and took the brunt of Tuk's embrace with little trouble, enveloping her arms around the child and gently rocking her.

"Oh, Tuk. Sweet girl, shh. It's alright," she whispered into her ear, reaching her hand up to protect the back of Tuk's neck. Looking up, Kayla immediately found Kiri and Lo'ak's faces as they walked up to stand over their aunt, and she immediately clocked their expressions, "What's wrong? What happened?"

As she looked around, silently observing her family, she took a headcount and realized there was one missing from the pack. Eyes slowly widening, she had somehow missed that there was no sign of a human boy in blue stripes, "... Where's Spider?"

No one responded. Kiri was obviously crying behind her hands and Lo'ak couldn't even look anyone in the eyes, let alone his aunt's. A chill ran down Kayla's spine when her eyes finally land on Jake and Neytiri, and one look at their faces had Kayla stand up with her hands still holding Tuk's shoulders so she could meet her brother's eye level as she glowered, "Where. Is. Spider."

"Kayla?" Norm had finally arrived and jogged up to the family, catching his breath while looking around, confused by the stand-off, "Jake, what's going on?"

"We got a problem," Jake informs Norm before turning to Kayla, his eyes equally as cold as hers. He points an accusatory finger near her face, "I want you to tell me the truth and nothing but the truth, you understand?"

Briefly, her eyes flick between confusion and defense, "What--"

"--Do you understand?" He growls.

Kayla paused, slowly letting go of Tuk and letting Neytiri grab the child before she firmly answered, "Yes."

"Did you know there were more avatars?"

Confusion flashes in her eyes again, brows furrowed, "I told you already. They planned on making more."

"But did you know they already made more?"

Shock stills her expression as she opened and closed her mouth while trying to find something to say. Jake suddenly grabs his sister by the shoulders, eyes wild with fear and anger and his tail curled straight up behind him to resemble said emotions, "Kayla! Did you know?!"

"No! I didn't!" She finally forces out, the words able to calm Jake enough to stop shaking her, "I thought I was the only one!"

"'You swear?"

"I swear."

He scoffed, "That doesn't mean shit to me, Kayla. I for one know what it's like to betray the Omatikaya and I'll be damned if I let it happen again!"

"Ma Jake, enough," Neytiri keeps Tuk behind her as she gently shoves her husband's shoulder to put some distance between him and Kayla, "She does not know and you are scaring the children."

The children were not the only ones who were scared. Kayla looks completely shattered, staring wide-eyed at her brother in disbelief. Even as he stepped back, Jake continued to glare at her with distrust and betrayal, emotions she herself felt at that moment, "... I thought you trusted me? Wouldn't that make you the liar? 

Jake's face briefly froze and his tail slowly lowered. The adult Sully siblings continued their stare-off until Norm took a look around and repeated Kayla's former concern, "Where's Spider?"

Kiri regained her voice between sobs for just enough time to shout out, "They took him! Those avatars took him away!"

Kayla blinked and quickly looked away from Jake, too ashamed and embarrassed to look at him any further. Silently, she moved over to her other niece, reaching out and allowing Kiri to fall into her arms and cry into her shoulder, the teenager clearly still disturbed and heartbroken. Kayla didn't breathe a word and instead held the girl close to her body as her thoughts plagued her mind from thinking about anything rationally at the moment, too caught up in her emotions. She felt betrayed and angry at Jake for believing she lied to him, she felt anger and bloodlust for whoever took Spider, but mostly she felt shattered and scared for the boy and for Kiri who was so distraught without her best friend. Kayla reached up to pet Kiri's hair as she finally whispered, "We'll get him back. I promise."

~~~~~~~~~

Jake knew he messed up by accusing his sister of lying to him. All those months, all that progress of trying to get Kayla to trust him again and feel like a part of the family-- gone. For easily the hundredth time, he let his baby sister down and even though he wanted to mend things, he knew it would be nearly impossible, especially after today.

He went looking for her after speaking to Neytiri, finally getting his wife to see his side of things and agreeing to leave. Since yesterday, when Spider was taken, Jake had hardly seen Kayla, only catching glimpses of her during mealtimes and then disappearing again. Norm didn't say where she was, but with one look, Jake could figure it out and made the journey through the camp to find her.

As expected, he found his sister in the war tent, going over the maps scattered across the floor mats and electrical monitors along the edges of the pod, the tech so out of place in the wide-open marui. Kayla hadn't heard Jake come in, her beaded braids swishing past her big ears as she quickly moved from one map to the other, barely pausing and staying on the move at all times. Her eyes flick wildly from one screen to the other, speeding through schematics as Jake finally made his presence known.

"Kayla."

She only briefly looked up at him before her determined eyes flick back down to the datapad she held in hand, her face impassive and strict and she spoke flatly, "There you are. I need your help with mapping out potential locations where we could launch an attack on Bridgehead. I know a few blind spots, but they might've upped the security since I left."

Had she looked up, even for a moment, she would've seen the guilt-ridden emotion comfortably etched on Jake's face, an expression his aging features were used to at this point. His ears lowered the further she rants on, "We won't need many people. Just enough to get in, grab Spider, and get out. If you and I take point, we can take the heat and fire back with guns, then Neytiri and a few others could come in and use their bows if needed--"

"Kayla, slow down."

Her eyes meet up with his again, eyebrows furrowed when she finally caught his expression, "What?"

Jake sighs through his nostrils, regrettably shaking his head, "We can't launch a rescue. We're not ready."

She scoffs in disbelief, slightly amused at his stupidity, "Then what are we supposed to do? Wait it out?" Her joke fell flat when he didn't make a rebuttal, her suspicions now heightening as she narrowed her eyes at her brother, "What's on your mind?"

"I'm leaving."

For a moment, he was under the impression that time had frozen if not for the rise and falls of her shoulders indicating Kayla was breathing. She stared blankly at him, features never moving, making Jake feel unease for many reasons until she bluntly repeated the word, "Leaving."

He nods, eyes falling to the wall of the tent behind her instead as he explained, "And I'm taking my family with me. Quaritch isn't after Spider, he's after me and my kids."

"That doesn't change the fact that we need to rescue him."

"Quaritch isn't gonna hurt him--"

"You don't know that, Jake!" She snapped, ears and tail stiffening in defense, snarling between her teeth, "You have no idea what he could do to Spider! Blood or not, I wouldn't be surprised if he used Spider to get to you."

"Hence why it might be safer if I went away. Far away," Jake tried to reason with her, hands out in surrender to try not to appear threatening. His eyes practically pleaded with his younger sibling, "They can't use Spider for bait if we're gone, then they won't have a need for him."

"So they're just gonna, what? Let him go?" She scoffed at her own ridiculous rhetorical question, "They're not gonna do that."

"You don't know that." He tried reiterating the use of her own words.

Kayla tilts her head and glares at him, unconvinced, "You've spent how many years on this moon? How do you know how the Sky People act nowadays? The answer is you don't. I know Ardmore. I know her enough to know that she'll squeeze every ounce of information from Spider until he's skinnier than a rind. They'll torture him until he forgets his name. I've seen their instruments. I know what they'll do to him."

Toruk Makto winced, his eyes briefly flashing down to the scars on the crook of both her arms then looked back at her, voice heavy as he stared Kayla down, "And for Kiri's sake, you're not going to tell her that, right? For her peace of mind?"

"Jake--"

"If you believe they're capable of getting the information they want outta Spider, then that's all the more reason for me and my family to go."

Silence fills the marui, suffocating the siblings. Jake didn't dare to look away this time, expressing how serious he was being before Kayla finally gives in, scoffing in distaste as her eyes break away from his. Looking off to the side of the room, she sighed, tired and defeated but unwilling to show her brother that. Her posture relaxes and the anger bleeds out of her. Beside herself, Kayla's voice barely goes above a whisper, "Where are you going?"

He winced again, knowing she would ask but wishing she hadn't, "It's... it's best if I don't tell you for now, in case they come after you for information."

She nods knowingly, "'You mean because you don't trust me."

He winced again before shaking his head, "I do trust you."

"Recent events suggest otherwise," she snarled.

Jake was beside himself, unable to come up with any excuses, "I..."

He closed his mouth, defeated, unable to say anything right for this moment. Kayla decides to take the initiative, closing up her feelings and going around the room to clean up her maps. Her voice is low and she refused to look at him as she spoke, "Go ahead."

She sees his hand move to her in the periphery of her vision and she immediately shrinks away to continue cleaning, further building her walls up, "No, it's fine, go. Leave. I'm not mad. Why should I be? I expect this sort of behavior from you. After all, it's not the first time you left me behind. It certainly won't be the last."

The guilt was evident in his voice, even if she couldn't see his face, "Kayla... it wouldn't be safe for you to come with. To have your human body here while your avatar is thousands of miles away, it's not safe."

"The whole point of me having an avatar is to test that boundary."

"And where we're going... I'm not even sure if we'll be accepted, let alone you. You're not Na'vi. At least... not fully. Until you fully learn our ways--"

"Our ways?" She echoes, flashing a scrutinous expression as she finally looks him in the eyes in disbelief, scowling, "Our ways? Look at you. It's like you forced yourself to forget who you were and where you came from."

"I'm not human anymore."

"You were born one!" She finally screams, beginning to pace while Jake silently takes the heat, carefully watching her as she grabbed the back of her head in distress, "Jesus, how bad is it to have the best of both worlds? Why did you have to choose?"

Her voice nearly cracked under the weight of the last question, a hidden meaning that Jake understood right away and hated himself all the more for it. The marui is silent again as if she was waiting for him to answer. But when she looked up and noticed how he kept his jaw firmly shut, she realized the silence was louder than any answer he could give her. Kayla closes in on herself again, going back to cleaning up her things, "Forget it-- Forget it!" She repeats, clearing her throat to rid the heartbreak behind it, "Just go. I'll see you when I see you. And if I have to, I'll find Spider myself. That kid doesn't deserve to suffer for your sins."

"Kayla--"

"Get lost, Corporal," she muttered, voice back to a cold, robotic monotone, "Say goodbye to someone who cares."

~~~~~~~~~

The Sullys planned on going with the clan to promote Tarsem to olo'eyktan at the Tree of Souls and then leaving from there by ikran. Everything was packed and they were ready to leave High Camp. Kayla, Norm, and the other humans loyal to the Omatikaya will not be joining the Omatikaya at the Tree of Souls and therefore had to say goodbye to Jake and his family early on.

Not that Kayla wanted to say goodbye, least of all to her brother, but she made time to hold her nieces and nephews for as long as she could. Jake had to look away as she did so, ashamed of himself for bringing his sister into his children's lives and then taking them from her in such a short time. 

Neytiri had to be the one to step forward to announce their departure, "Come. Or we will be left behind."

"I don't wanna go..." Tuk whimpered against Kayla's neck, breaking both her mother's and aunt's hearts. 

Kayla kissed the girl's temple and put on a brave face, "Be good for your mama on your flight. I'll see you soon, okay?"

She handed Tuk off to Neytiri and was unable to avoid an embrace from the Na'vi woman herself. With Tuk on one hip, Neytiri used her free hand to pull Kayla in, pressing their foreheads together while her bottom lip quivered, "Eywa Ngahu."

Kayla placed a gentle hand on her sister-in-law's shoulder, "I'll do my best to protect your clan. I swear it."

"The last of them are leaving, folks," Norm regrettably pitches in while shaking Jake's hand and slapping his shoulder steadily with the other, "You're gonna have to catch up."

"Thank you," Jake muttered to Norm, keeping his gaze firmly on his old friend to show his gratitude, "Keep an eye on things for me. Do whatever Tarsem says. Respect his leadership, no matter what."

"You got it, boss," Norm flashes a small grin, but it wasn't as bright or as charismatic as it usually is.

Jake nods and finally pulls away, turning to his family, "It's time."

Feeling rushed, Kayla quickly gathers the older niece and nephews around her, trying her best to get her arms around all of them, and proceeds to kiss all three of their foreheads while they in turn try to keep holding on tight, "Behave yourselves. Do everything you can to help out your parents. Stay safe and keep an eye on your sister."

Kayla then leans her head against Kiri's, kissing the top of her hair while whispering soft enough for only the teens to hear, "I'll find him, okay? I'll find him and bring him back to you."

All three pull away from her and flash their gratitude through their eyes. Neteyam dutifully nods and leads his younger siblings away while all three continued to periodically look back at their aunt even as they mount their respective ikran. Neytiri, Tuk, and Jake follow suit, the child riding with her mother. Jake makes tsaheylu with Bob and leans back for a moment, taking in the sights of High Camp before his eyes flick down to Kayla's.

She meets his gaze with a stern one of her own and she simply nods. Jake tightens his jaw and grits his teeth behind his lips, unable to let the words out no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he just nods back and looks away, internally commanding Bob to take flight. They lift off and Neytiri vocally caws to get her own banshee flying up, holding on tight to Tuk while she turns back, ululating to summon the rest of her children to follow. Neteyam dutifully follows without a second thought, but Lo'ak and Kiri hesitate before they, too, took off into the air. 

Kayla watches them go until they've completely vanished from sight... and even then she watches some more. 

A/N: Sorry if it's rushed again. Next chapter is a filler before we return to the film's events.

Txe'la and Meui are OCs and are not from the original franchise, same goes for Jocelyn. I just decided that these background Na'vi and humans need names and entire backstories and yes they're totally fucking, too.

[sirdindjarin]

Never Let Me Down Again - Joel Miller x Reader (Part One)

While searching cross-country for his brother, Joel stumbles across Ellie and you, her older sister. Persuaded into letting you two tag along, Joel is reminded that there are some good things left in the world.

A/N: This is a non-canon (timeline is fucked with), highly indulgent story. Based on Pedro Pascal's excellent daddyness in the HBO adaptation of The Last of Us. Also, I'm from the South so I get to make fun of it and beautify it.

Masterlist ->

AO3 Link♥

RATING: Mature - sexual pining, cursing, gore, canon-typical violence, blood, death of an animal (rabbit).

TAGS: Age Gap (reader is mid-twenties, Joel is mid-forties), Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Fluff, EVENTUAL SMUT, Happy Ending.

WC: 10.5k

Before the world ended, many a weekend had been spent sleeping under the stars, smelling the heated smoke of a campfire, and listening to your father tell stories of his wild childhood.

But now, in this diseased world, the quiet woodlands around you feel more like victorious kingdoms. 

Eight years ago, nature began a war, successfully colonizing mankind. Neither cities nor the country were safe, but at least the wilderness was fairer: a chance at freedom controlled only by fate and capability. 

You’ve grown to like this area, as far as you can like anywhere that isn’t fortified and full of supplies and weapons. Determining which QZs or communities weren’t run by a violent government or another type of evil had been too risky. You had her to think about. 

The scope of your rifle trains on a furry patch of gray and tan. The rabbit's fluffy head snaps up, preternaturally aware of the danger. As you breathe into the squeeze of the trigger, a bronze shape shifts into your field of vision. You relax your finger and adjust the scope to identify the intrusion.

A man. His hair is downy, a mixture of mahogany and gray, similar to your previous, smaller target. He, too, has a gun pointed at the doomed rabbit. He seems to feel the attention of your firearm as his gaze pinpoints you.

The man has guarded eyes the color of coffee. With a powerful build only broadened by his thick tawny jacket, he's imposing. But his unkempt hair, full lips, and strong jaw tug at your sensibilities.

You recognize the look of hunger on his face; the memory of that feeling ghosts through your gut in empathy. Your weapon lowers, and you tip your head toward the animal, signaling to the stranger.

The man returns your gesture in gratitude and fires. You back away, gun still at the ready, as he advances to retrieve his dinner. Being nice didn't mean that you had to let your guard down.

       ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"You bitches," the elderly woman shrieks. "Where's our fuckin' eggs?"

Your hands point skyward as you stare down a shotgun. It’s an antique double barrel. Your grandfather had one like it. You wonder where it is now.

Lightning fast, you kick out to the left, hooking Ellie’s leg, indicating she should get behind you.

"No, ma’am. We didn't take any of your eggs. We came up here to ask you honestly for some." You try to explain, backing up a step. Ellie’s hands are tense on your back, ready for whatever you tell her to do.

The small farm sits in a holler near the base of a mountain; a half day's walk from your failed rabbit hunt. It wasn’t much anymore - the barn had long ago fallen to splinters and the pens contained no livestock.

However, a handful of chickens cluck around in the front yard. Neither you nor Ellie could believe the sound as you approached the old, single-story farmhouse.

Your excitement quickly dissipated. Sickles, rusted farm equipment, and bleached bones you hadn't the time to identify were strung around the front porch. Mason jars filled with suspiciously-colored liquids lined the railings.

"Bullshit. We ain't seen not a single livin' person outside of us in years, and my eggs go missin' the same day you selfish brats appear? Pfft." 

What remains of the woman’s stringy hair flies about as she spits in the dirt. It was hard to believe she’s had a roof over her head all this time. Her once-white nightgown is splotchy and torn. The shotgun is too heavy for her, shaking in her frail arms.

“‘We?’ Ten bucks says she's living with a dead body," Ellie quips under her breath.

"John, get out here!" The woman calls over her shoulder.

"Lady, seriously, we'll just move on," you try again.

"JOHN!"

The silence of the woods had been disturbed by the woman’s accusations and was now replaced by the intimidating thumping and squeaking of a large man's footsteps on bowed, rotten wood.

A bear of a man, roughly mid-fifties (though it was hard to tell through the beard trailing to his chest and the ball cap on his head), stands in the doorway. In his right hand gleams a hammer.

"We like to save bullets," the old bitch sneers.

"Listen to me, lady, we did not take anything from you!" 

John steps slowly off the porch, his eyes trained on you. It was almost ridiculous. Did these people really think you would stand there while a man beat you to death with a hammer? You'd take a shotgun blast over that.

The problem was Ellie. The gun was a double-barreled shotgun which meant the woman only had two shells. If you could get her to fire and miss twice, both of you would have time to run. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Under the cover of a pine tree, Joel Miller squats, watching the scene unfold. With three eggs in his hand, he feels mildly bad about you being blamed for their disappearance. Especially since he recognizes you as the girl who gave up a rabbit for him. 

Joel hears the woman call you thieves and shakes his head. Honestly, the old woman should be on-her-knees-grateful he didn’t take a whole fuckin' chicken. As he watches, he notices that she can barely hold the shotgun. 

They’ll be fine. 

His knees crack as he straightens and turns to leave, but then the shrieking echo of her calling for a man makes him pause. Joel didn’t like the odds so much anymore. He sees the look on the gun-wielding granny’s face and concludes that something far worse than justice for egg theft had fermented in these hillbillies' minds.

Joel's sharp eyes examine you. He can see the gears turning in your head, the plan forming in your mind. Gut feelings and snap judgments were important when they were the difference between life and death. Joel had become adept at both. Joel’s snap judgment was that you were capable. Smart. He figured you probably would be okay without his help, but his conscience grabs hold of him. 

He owed you.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"A’right," a man's low, smooth voice commands. "No need for all this."

Fear drops a weight in your stomach. The voice came from behind you and you don't dare turn. Now you’re outnumbered. And if this man also has a gun, it’s truly game over.

You swallow down the crushing dread, trying not to cry. Guilt and desperation stab at you over your failure to protect your sister.

But as you look at the homeowners' faces, you're confused. John’s lip is curled into a snarl, and his mother shakily moves the gun back and forth between you and the newcomer.

You decide it's worth the risk. You rotate, and from your peripheral, you somehow recognize the figure stepping out from the twilit woods.

How is that possible? Everyone you've ever known - or even heard of - is dead.

"Put it down," the man's southern accent is clear. 

You try to place it subconsciously. The Carolinas? No, his accent is too soft on the vowels. Georgia, maybe?

Slowly, the old woman hunches over the gun as if to set it down, but instead pulls the trigger in the direction of the mystery man. The recoil sends her stumbling. The sound explodes in the clearing, conjoined by the concussion of the newcomer's firearm discharging. The shotgun clatters to the ground, along with the old woman. Blood pools in the grass around her head. 

John roars and charges the man who killed his mother. Dropping your arms, you cage Ellie behind you. John races past, single-minded.

Your savior calmly stands several yards away with a rifle in his hands. To your utter shock, it’s the man from your earlier rabbit hunt. 

How the fuck? 

He’s as unmoving as the surrounding mountains despite Big John barreling down on him. The man from the woods fires one shot. John drops to the ground with a sickening thud and a winded moan. Shot in the gut, he has a few moments to live.

"How're y'all keepin' chickens alive out here for eight years?"

"Fuck you, boy," John chokes up blood, sputtering. Then his breath rattles once, twice, and stops.

The scruffy stranger reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tan egg. "Haven’t had an egg in..." He retreats from that memory.

You snort good-naturedly, "Well, I was going to say ‘Nice to see you again,’ but that dampens my gratitude."

“Owed you for the rabbit, too” he explains. 

"What's he mean by that? What rabbit?" Ellie inputs.

You ignore her and laugh. “Why didn’t you take a whole chicken?” 

“What’m I gonna do with a live chicken?”

“Eat it.”

“Well, that wouldn’t have been very nice of me, would it?” He mutters, toeing John. “Sure would like to know how these idiots survived all this time without bein’ raided, though. This place isn’t that hidden. We both found it.” 

His suspicions were starting to sprout in you, too. “Maybe it wasn’t just those two. We should check the house. Might be good stuff in there.” But after the way this family looked and acted, you knew you were unlikely to find anything besides toads collected in jars.  

The brown-eyed man nods, "Yeah, guess so."

“What’s your name?” You inquire.

The man simply looks at you.

“So I can call if I need something.”

He sighs, hesitating.

“Joel,” he answers, his voice quick and deep. It suits him. Strong, fitting somehow. 

“Alright, Joel.” You give him your name. “Let’s get it over with - I’m getting the creeps out here, and I doubt it'll be better inside.” 

“Fuck me, I guess?” Ellie chimes in again now that a bit of trust has been established.

Joel looks at her, shocked, but addresses you: “She always talk like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You keep watch, El.” You point to the stump of a fallen tree. “Get comfy.”

The interior of the house is precisely what you expected. Dirt, decay, bugs, and stains cover every surface. Mold decorates several corners of the ceiling, and at least two walls have water damage, causing the old paint to swell and burst. The living room is cramped - a time capsule of trash litters the floor. You gleefully point out a crushed can of Vanilla Pepsi. 

“They released that like a month before it all went to shit,” you remember. “I loved that soda.” 

Your mind wanders, no longer seeing the house. Ellie was only six back then. You, just seventeen. You’d taken your younger sister out of school early. You’d bought that same soda and driven to a park, watching Ellie be a kid on the playground. 

How incredible the difference a few hours can make. It was painful to remember your parents, and you tried not to. When you left the house that morning, did you say goodbye properly? Did you hug your mom? It’s been too long to remember with certainty. 

An impatient voice slams you back into the present, “Can’t be cryin’ over trash all day.” 

You paw at a lonely tear with your sleeve. “You know damn well I wasn’t crying over trash.” 

He’s got his back to you as he leans to dig through a cabinet in the adjoining kitchen. In the center of the floor, an old rug makes a squelching noise when he steps on it.

“Can’t be cryin’ over that now, either,” he says with a glimmer of empathy, moving through the kitchen with a practiced sweep of his rifle. It reminds you that he, too, has a tragic backstory. Everyone does. 

You inhale deeply to collect yourself and regret it. You quickly pull the collar of your flannel over your nose. A sickly sweet smell permeates the place, as if the house itself were decomposing.

The floorboards, once a pretty oak, are black and squishy. The walls are yellow and the black-and-white photos framed down the hallway wall make the place seem even older than it is. This house is condemnable.

You sweep the other rooms, all of them in nearly unlivable conditions, and find nothing besides two equally disgusting beds. But it was strange. How were these people thriving? They must have friends. A compound nearby, a trader, some smuggling friends, someone.

You step out from the last bedroom and back into the long, yellow hallway. 

Joel stands in the living room, backlit by the open front door. He’s staring at a piece of paper in his hands like it’s a map to Atlantis. It might as well be.

“You good?” You ask as you advance on him, curious about his find. 

He looks up and his face, while unsmiling, is excited. “My brother’s on a damn beach.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

In the east, the sun rises over the hill. You’re awoken by the bright heat on your cheeks and eyelids. To your left, among the trees, you can hear fabric rustling and buckles snapping together. Joel must be packing up his gear. He’d slept as far away from the two of you as he could after making your deal. 

In the dying light of the previous evening, you had offered to watch his back and help procure food if he’d let you tag along to his brother’s camp.

Joel had let slip that this brother of his was a “joiner; joins every ‘good’ cause he can find” and whatever he was up to typically meant his location was safer than most. After aimlessly wandering for the last several years, you figure a destination would be good for Ellie. 

Groggily, you sit up and unzip your sleeping bag. Ellie’s arm is thrown over her face, yet to awaken from the natural alarm clock. You groan as you stand, your back not as young as it once was. Catching his attention, Joel lifts his pack and stomps toward you - or, maybe he’s just a big guy and I’m not used to staring at a man when he walks, you think amusedly.

He clears the tree line and asserts, “Need to go. If you’re still comin’, we’re gonna be slow, an’ it’s already a ways.” 

You disagree, “We’re not gonna slow you down. We both made it to that place,” you wave at the chicken coop down the hill, “at the same time, buddy.” 

“Technically, I got there first,” he argues. 

You suck your teeth, unwilling to battle technicalities this early in the morning. You move over to your sister and gently shake her arm.

“I didn’t sleep at all,” she moans.

“Yeah, El, welcome to life. Get up.”

She glares up at you, huffing, and rises from her makeshift bed. 

Joel stands with his hands on his hips, watching impassively. From under the curtain of your hair, as you squat to roll your bag, you take stock of him.

The lines radiating from the corners of his eyes and across his forehead tell you that he’s older than you by at least a decade, probably two, but the wavy, graying hair, solid build, and confident demeanor only add to your interest. His pack looks bulky and burdensome, but he carries it on his shoulders as though it weighs nothing. He’s hardened but kind enough to have felt in your debt. His red, faded plaid shirt is snug across his torso and his biceps. His hands are strong and capable. 

As you study his hands, you notice he wears a watch. It looks old, its face cracked, but your brief once-over isn’t enough to be sure. That would be odd if so.

Why wear an old, broken watch?

Maybe it was broken recently and he hasn’t noticed. But Joel didn’t seem like the type of man who wouldn't notice something like that, nor would he keep items of no use to him. Your eyebrows furrow. 

Maybe it’s sentimental.

You absentmindedly touch your necklace and your heart aches for him. That makes more sense. You have no proof besides a quick character study of the man, but you’re sure he wears that thing for the same reason you wear yours. 

Joel's mind swells with impatience, nearly telling you that he’s leaving without you several times despite it taking you less than five minutes to pack. As he opens his mouth to speak his mind, you rise from your squatted position. 

Since you'd already been staring, you make eye contact with him. Your warm smile brands him. Joel blinks twice, his bad mood disarmed. He has no idea how long it's been since someone genuinely smiled at him.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “Okay. We’re goin’ east.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It has been silent for several hours at this point. Hiking uphill was strenuous no matter the athletic ability, and talking was out of the question. Your head hangs as you focus on your two feet crunching upon the dead leaves and brambles. Dead twigs scratch at your boots. 

You might’ve been embarrassed about your lethargy if Joel hadn’t been worse. His legs actually stomp, determined to get where they're going. He had been ahead when you first started this morning, but now he was level with you. You couldn’t blame him. He was in excellent shape, but this was exhausting. 

“Wanna - take a break?” You push out the words between breaths. 

From under his hooded eyes, he throws a sidelong glance at you, unsure if you’re mocking him. He looks over his shoulder at Ellie. She throws him a thumbs-up. 

“She’s a baby. We’re not,” you tell him. 

He snorts and you want to believe his lip twitches. “What are you - twenty-two?” 

“No,” you answer. He snorts again in disbelief. You continue, “I haven’t been twenty-two in a while.” 

“It was, like, a few years ago,” Ellie interjects. Her face is amused. She knows.

“A few years is a long time out here. Especially on my poor back.” You glare at her.

Due to the incline of the earth, you plant your legs to keep yourself from tumbling down the hill. Joel follows suit, sitting down where he’d been standing. You take a swig from your canteen, the cold water almost painful to your parched throat.

Joel paces his breath. His heart begins to slow and his body relaxes before his peace is ended by Ellie.

“So, Joel, what’re you doing out here? So far from your home… of…?” 

Her arms are propped on her knees, her chin resting on her folded hands. It isn’t a polite question though she asks it with innocence. She's as curious about him and his accent as you are. 

It was rare to meet someone out here that wasn’t an automatic enemy, so Joel couldn’t blame your sister too much for asking. He’s still irritated by it. 

“I'm transporting cargo.”

“What cargo? Something cool?”

Joel motions between you and Ellie.

“No, dude, I mean where are you from and what were you doing before you ran into us.” She sounds exasperated.

“Nothin' for you to be worried about,” Joel answers with honesty and finality.

Ellie holds up her hands in surrender, “Hey, I was just curious. We’ve never met a man like you out here is all.” 

Joel wants to let that go in one ear and out the other, and he doesn’t comment on it, but internally he feels a spasm of some long-forgotten emotion. A man like him? A smuggler, a criminal, a murderer? Sure she has. 

             ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A few, long days later, Ellie tries again.

"Georgia?" She quizzes. She gets no answer from the wall of Joel's back. She tries again:

"Florida?"

Joel snorts. "No." 

"Texas?" You finally guess.

Joel freezes his face to prevent giving anything away, but that's his biggest tell. Walking near him, you can see his mouth twitch, too.

"Ah. So, a cowboy," you say slyly. "The best kind of southerner." 

Joel scoffs, not wanting the praise. "Wasn't no cowboy."

"What'd you do? If you don't mind me asking."

"I do mind." He successfully shuts you up.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“I’ve always liked North Carolina,” you offer to no one in particular. 

It’s been five days of walking in this new triad. Joel sighs. You and your sister talk so much. He refuses to acknowledge the part of him that would 've enjoyed the banter.

As the three of you plod along, the wind picks up and the Carolina pines creak in response.

“You’ve never been here before,” Ellie accuses. 

All you can see is Joel’s broad back as the two of you follow him down the empty road, but he might’ve shaken his head at the petty argument. 

The freeways and interstates were impossible to walk down due to the number of cars, but these state back roads were almost pleasant. Few people had evacuated this way, but occasionally you'd pass a long-abandoned car.

“I know, stupid. I saw pictures.” You might be her guardian, but you’re still sisters. 

“Hey Joel, have you ever been here before?” Ellie goes over your head.

A single head shake. 

“Is the beach nice?” She continues.

Joel stops, half-turns, and looks over his shoulder. One eyebrow is raised as he deadpans, “You wan’ me to tell your fortune, too?”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “But you’re old. You were around before. Surely you know more than she does.” She jerks her thumb in your direction. 

Joel’s eyes flick to you, then he abruptly turns back around. He hoists his bag higher onto his shoulder and continues walking.

“I was basically an adult on outbreak day, Ellie.” You mouth at her: What the fuck are you doing? 

Why do you care? She mouths back, I think you like him.

She punctuates her statement by pointing at you, then his broad back. She curls her arms as if she were in a body-building competition. Your cheeks flush.

He - is - helping us! You wave your hands dramatically, semi-mocking her and instantly feeling less mature for the motion.

Oh, yeah, out of the goodness of his lil’ heart? She looks incredulous. 

Maybe! Your eyes widen, trying to convince her.

You could believe it. Sure, he had a rough exterior, and you doubted he’d be throwing his ass on the line for you again, but he was decent enough to give one or two shits.

Ellie belts one short laugh, easily mistaken for a cry of alarm which causes Joel to whirl around sharply. His large, dark eyes dart behind and to either side before he realizes you’d just been communicating between yourselves. He says nothing, his expression once again that of a disappointed parent.

“Sorry. Thought of a… great joke.” Ellie bites her cheek to quell the laughter in her throat. 

Your younger sister is a horrible liar. Ellie had been banned from all diplomatic jobs required for survival. If it required white lies, good lies, or bad lies, the job fell to you. 

Joel grimaces, “Well, keep it to yourself.”

Ellie salutes with her first two fingers; Joel turns away once more, only partly curious as to what you’d been talking about. It made him miss his brother. Made him miss laughing with his brother. The kid sure was a pain-in-the-ass right-fighter, but god, he loved him.

A few hours later, Ellie catches you admiring the fit of Joel’s jeans. In your defense, his red flannel had ridden up underneath his backpack like a velvet stage curtain. His brown leather belt lined the edge of his deeply-tanned skin. The colors look so warm - he looks so warm. It’s such a pathetic thought and you feel an insane desire to giggle. You clamp a hand over your mouth, and Ellie slaps you on the arm.

“You’re so obvious,” she whispers. “Are you okay?” She’s half-serious, half-mocking, but at the mention of it, you do a mental calculation and realize something. 

“No, I’m losing it. I’m gonna need to find some water. Been a couple of days,” you frown. 

Joel must've heard you because he stops and pulls out his map.

“Says there’s a creek running just south of us,” he leans against the first car (crashed and unusable, of course) you'd seen in nearly an hour. He nods toward the woods, tapping the map against his thigh. You grab Ellie by the hand, and trek in the direction he’d indicated. 

While you’re gone, Joel interrogates the map. How in the sweet fuck did he get this lucky? If he had to guess, he’d say that Tommy had either given those hillbillies this map in case they needed to find him (Tradin', maybe? Or to give them a place to retreat to?), or they had stolen the map from someone else who had it for the same reasons.

It didn’t matter, really; all Joel cares about is that Tommy’s name and handwriting had circled a spot near the coast. At least a ten-day walk, probably more; he sighs. 

Joel lifts his eyes to the moody sky. The breeze cools the sweaty, tan skin of his throat. Joel closes his eyes, allowing himself a moment of calm. 

Projected on his eyelids, he sees you lowering your gun amongst the trees, allowing him to have the rabbit. You’d been there first. Food wasn’t something people compromised on and yet… you’d had mercy on him. A stranger. 

His eyes fly open and he shakes his shoulders, unhappy about the squirming feeling inside him. 

Since he'd met you the second time, you’d talked more than he’d heard anyone speak in over a month. 

“Our parents used to take us into the woods and announce that we had to ‘Fend for ourselves.’ It was a fun exercise - at the time. We learned how to fish and hunt and gather berries or mushrooms or edible plants, and it was always this big adventure. We’d pile everything next to our campfire and my dad would say-”

“Eatin’ goooooood t’night!” Ellie finished the story in your father’s inflection, a tinge of sadness around the sound. You’d nudged her shoulder in camaraderie.

 Joel had yet to smile or talk about himself. The two of you asked enough questions, but he did his best to ignore them. He was completely confused as to your gaiety. 

You hadn’t lost as much of your social nature as you believed. Joel supposed having your sister by your side constantly would go far in preserving your pre-outbreak self. 

He’d been on his own too long. That was another reason he hadn’t denied your suggestion to follow him to the coast. The accompaniment of two unreasonably optimistic people caused him anxiety, but having experienced companions he could trust (and, inexplicably, he did feel that he could trust you) would always be invaluable. 

Joel had formed another snap judgment about you: you’re naive. He couldn’t understand how that was possible, though, and he almost felt guilty for even thinking it. You have survived with the added pressure of a dependant for eight years in this shit sandwich of a world. How could you have done that if you were naive? 

But his own eyes saw your willingness to give up food, your honesty in trying to ask for eggs, and now your blind trust in his guiding you three.

You needed an objective partner. He was willing to be such temporarily, and wherever Tommy was would be a safe place for you and your sister. 

You return a little while later clearly unhappy. Ellie, fighting a self-conscious smile, brings up the rear. She’d taunted you more about your infatuation with ‘your savior,’ as she’d called him. Which, of course, he wasn’t. Technically, he was the reason you’d gotten into trouble in the first place. 

You'd explained to Ellie that he was like a new toy. Different, interesting, and unthreatening. 

Well, sort of. 

You ring out the ends of your hair as Joel asks, tilting his chin up, “What happened?”

“Accidentally tipped her into the stream,” Ellie answers, patting your elbow apologetically. “I was just trying to nudge her as a joke but -”

“I slipped on the moss.” You finish for her. Since you were able to catch your fall, you hadn’t been soaked, but you had fallen on your knees and part of your hair had swung into the creek bed.

Joel lowers his eyebrows. You could’ve been hurt, or come down with pneumonia had you gotten your clothes wet. Spending winter nights in sleeping bags wasn’t the haven you wished and doing it wet may have killed you.

Joel eyes Ellie. Her cheek is twitching as if she’s nervously biting the inside of it, and her hands twist in her lap as she plunks down on the ground. 

She feels bad. Good. He was assessing a threat. If the kid was so wanton about causing problems, he’d re-evaluate this deal. But no: Just a kid actin’ like one. 

“Sun’ll be down in about an hour. Might as well set up shop here.”

“That's cool with me - it’s a nice view,” you can’t help but observe. And you’re right. The old state highway curves around and down a small, rolling mountain. Old farms divvy up the valley below like a patchwork quilt. 

Uncaring about the cliche, you’re struck by the sight. So many people spent their lives looking for a purpose. Thrills? Surviving? Power? You may be young, but you saw the answer every day, and you see it now. Your eyes drink in the blue ridges of the hazy mountains and the safe greenness that was alien to so many who sequestered in the QZs. 

Your head turns a fraction to see your sister stand and quirk her lips. Her hands land on her hips as she squints into the distance, thinking the same thing you had been. Beauty and love.

Your irritation is erased as if it had never been. Still smiling, you turn to Joel and ask, “Alright, you want to start the fire or set up the tent?”

Joel is staring at you. His face, so often canyoned by worry lines, was open to you now. Wide, coffee-colored eyes shine as he wonders who you are. How you could be so untroubled. 

But the look disappears the instant you register his curiosity. His brow drops and he grunts, “I’ll set up the tent.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next morning, your vision is filled with a utilitarian-green canvas ceiling. This tent belonged to your parents. It was one of your prized possessions, only pitching it when necessary, or whenever safe enough.

Later, you would convince yourself your cold, wet hair had been what led you to whip out the tent that night, not the inherent security of Joel’s presence. He, of course, had remained outside the tent despite it being just big enough to squeeze the three of you. You wouldn’t have let him inside, anyway. Trusting a man only went so far when it concerned your baby sister.

A crackling sound licks your ears and you smell smoke. You fight your way out of your sleeping bag and unzip the tent.

Joel is tired. He’s wearing his heavy jacket in the chill of the morning, and the biting breeze tussles with his already windswept hair. His eyes meet yours and he thins his lips in greeting. His lackluster "good morning" notwithstanding, he looked simultaneously soft and rough - in your opinion, exactly how a man should. 

He looks so fucking good. Your stomach somersaults in response. Wonder if I’d be this easy if the world hadn’t died, you laugh at yourself.

"Caught another rabbit. Here,” Joel leans, plucking a small piece of cooked meat from a roasting stick. 

You stride over to him and take the hot food from his outstretched hand. Sitting down next to him, your warm fingers graze his cold ones. Joel leans back, retreating a short distance. 

“Mmm, been a while since I’ve had rabbit,” you nod your head in thanks and plop the bite into your mouth. It burns your tongue for a moment, but you let it, imagining that it’s heating your entire body. 

“Can’t say the same,” he replies, then can’t help but ask: “Why’d you do it?” 

It’s been gnawing at him ever since. Joel’s concluded that you’re a good person. Too good, in fact, and you had your sister to think about. How could you put him - a random man - over your reliant sister? You were a walking dichotomy. Happy when this world is unhappy, kind when this world is unkind, trusting but alive.

“You were hungry,” you answer simply, shrugging. Humanity is rare now, and therefore precious. 

That doesn’t satisfy him in the least. “And you weren’t? And…” he doesn’t want to use Ellie’s name, it feels too friendly. “Your sister?” 

This time you turn your face to look up at him. He’s so much taller, so much larger than you, even sitting down. His chin is licked by the orange glow of the flames. The sun has started to rise over the mountain ridge behind him, recoloring his jacket from brown to gold. 

Apocalypse or not, he's fucking hot. You had the answer to your earlier thought. Dwindled pool of men? Who cares when he looks like that?

“We had food. I’d found a few houses a couple of days before and we still had, like, two or three granola bars and some berries.” You turn your face away to the view beyond your encampment. 

Joel blinks twice in disbelief. A couple goddamn granola bars?

“You need to be a better guardian,” he reprimands you.

Your head snaps to him, a look of shocked anger coloring your face. “What?” 

Joel looks down toward the valley where your eyes had been peacefully resting a moment earlier. “You can’t think about other people when you have her to worry about.” 

“I’ve kept us alive for almost a fucking decade, Joel. I know what to do.” You sneer his name and stand. 

“Listen, I appreciated it. You backin’ off the bunny. But I’m just saying, that girl’s gotta be your priority. You have to be your priority.” 

Joel doesn't know why he cares. Or at least, he wants to pretend that he doesn't know. He clamps his lips shut. 

“Thanks for the advice,” you say acidly, “I’d love to see you raise a kid through this.” 

You watch as his jaw ticks, as he looks away at your words, but you’re too angry to analyze that at the moment. 

“Teaching her that we can still be good people is almost as important as surviving. I don’t need to justify myself to you, but I'll warn you, in case you think you can take advantage of us: I’ve killed for her. I have done awful, horrible things. Things I see at night when I try to sleep. Things you’d probably be proud of.”

A statement meant to hurt him.

“But you go ahead and judge me from your fucking high horse.” 

Joel’s eyes never meet yours, but they involuntarily trail after you as you disappear into the tent, zipping it shut with as much violence as possible.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Joel doesn’t apologize. Neither one of you speaks during the trudge down into the valley. The silence is broken only by the breathing and grunting of descending a steep hill. You glance back at your little sister and she grins at you. The answer to Joel’s question was so obvious. How could you sink into despair when you had her? You answer her grin.

“Oh, good, I thought maybe I snored too loud or something.” 

You laugh, “What?”

“You’re acting all,” she scrunches her eyebrows, “pissed. I haven’t seen you this mad since that guy in Philadelphia last year.” 

“That guy was twice my age and I was downright angelic to him,” you grimace. 

“You never told me what he said about me,” she pushes. 

You stop and look at her, certain that Joel had kept walking. That was fine with you. He could keep going.

“What that motherfucker said was so vile, I’m not going to dirty my mouth by repeating it.” 

“Dude... you stabbed him in the balls. I saw that. So violence is fine for me to see, but I don’t get to know the dirty joke that made you mad?” Ellie asks, genuinely curious. 

Joel’s sonorous voice answers from right behind you, “Violence is necessary. The only reason we’re all still here. As a kid… no, you shouldn’t have to get used to it, but that’s not an option anymore. Perverts, you don’t have to get used to - so you shouldn’t.” 

Your head turns sharply to look at him, taken by surprise. He backed you up. His explanation isn’t entirely articulate, but Ellie seems to understand. It’s also the longest he’s spoken to her. He catches your eye briefly, then continues down the road. Ellie grabs for your hand.

What’s going on?

She mouths, seeing too much for your liking.

Nothing.

Your eyes are wide, convincing, as you reply. You once read that liars tend to make too much eye contact, or none at all. Looks like you’re the former.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The ear-splitting crack of a firearm echoes through the sparse valley. Two dilapidated houses sit on either side: one next to the road and nearly destroyed by fire; the other, a pale blue, one-floor ranch style, sits on a steep incline slightly back from the road, and from its living room window comes the flash of a muzzle. 

There is no need to think. Your brain automatically identifies both the location of the shooter and your closest cover. Your hand clasps around Ellie’s wrist and you sprint to the right, up the burnt stone steps, and into the blackened house. 

Some timbers still stand, and some crumbling walls as well, but your goal is through what used to be the kitchen and down behind the back of the house’s foundation. As you skirt around a piece of drywall in the kitchen,  a bullet blasts into it, sending powder and small chunks into the air. 

A short scream escapes you in surprise, but you yank Ellie down the back steps and behind cover. Joel is there a heartbeat later, his weapon already in hand. He sits back against the concrete slab, his face alight with frustration.

“Damn,” you tell him like this is a minor inconvenience, though your heart is hammering like a carpenter. 

His eyes fall to the gun in your hand and a deep chasm appears between his eyebrows. No, you glance down, he wasn’t looking at your gun but at your arm. A red substance? Blood? 

Your head whips to your sister, but she’s looking at you with concern. Your head snaps back toward Joel. 

“I’m shot?” You ask breathlessly. Then - bless those adrenaline chemicals, they did their best - then, the pain waves over you, through you. Your arm burns as your nerve endings erupt. That piece of shit had shot you through the forearm. 

Joel examines the bloody mess, then his calloused hand rips a strip off his undershirt and loops it around your arm. You grind your teeth to bear the pain as he tightens the fabric, but darkness offers to take you away from it anyway. Joel ties it off and the darkness retreats.

The bullet’s path hadn’t gone through your arm but across it, cutting a gaping trench in your flesh. That’s good. No digging for gold necessary. The shots continue at a slower rate, intentionally keeping you three pinned down. 

“It’s not that bad,” Joel drops his head to steal your attention, his eyes intensely boring into yours. “Hey, listen. It’s not bad. Can you wiggle your fingers?”

You shake your head, eyes filling with tears before you even try, the pain so all-consuming. But your fingers curl when you command. 

“Guess so,” you groan.

“Right. Not that bad,” he cannot let you panic now. “You’re not a lefty, anyway. You can shoot?” 

Inhaling, you nod. Words were an unnecessary use of energy. His eyes continue pouring into your own for a moment, willing you strength.

“This is my valley!” A man’s booming voice announces. He sounds much closer than the seventy yards between the two houses. “We're not going to no concentration camps!”

Joel finally looks away from you and slowly raises his head over the edge of the concrete foundation. A tall man around Joel’s age stands in full view. Based on the man’s pronouncement, he doesn’t seem to have a complete grasp of reality. 

Joel thinks about answering. He thinks about telling the man that you three meant him no harm, that you were only passing through. Joel doesn’t feel like killing today. 

But then he looks down and his eyes snag on your face. He feels your pain, sees your terror, and it wrenches something loose in his chest. 

You’d done nothing wrong, you were innocent and this man just shot you. You could still die from an infection or blood loss. This man might’ve just killed you. Joel’s jaw sets so angrily that you hear his teeth grit. 

As his thoughts catch up with him, Joel’s rifle fires twice. One bullet tears through the shooter’s center of mass. Joel watches the man stumble, fall. If he strained his ears, he could probably hear the man’s last pained breaths. 

Instead, he stands and rushes through the burnt debris, taking shelter behind a small tree before deciding the shooter is alone. You call after him quietly, unhappy he went alone. He cautiously starts up the driveway. You groan in resolution as you force yourself to your feet. 

Heavily breathing, Joel kicks away the gun from the now-deceased man and busts through the ripped screen door. It’s incredibly dim, and the air is heavy. Bedsheets cover the windows and Joel’s eyes aren’t as young as they used to be. He notices the house is relatively clean. The baseboards are layered in dust, but there is a decent couch, blankets folded in a neat pile, and books neatly lined up on the shelf. Joel turns the corner to the hallway and, finding it clear, slowly treads down the carpeted path. 

The bathroom door creaks once as he pushes it open with his boot. A blue shag rug, gray walls, and a clean sink greet him, but his attention focuses on the medicine cabinet. He strides forward, his gun in one hand as he searches through the cabinet. 

Ibuprofen. Helpful.

Tums.

Nail clippers.

Saline solution. He snatches the clear bottle from its dusty place, a satisfied smirk.

Menstrual pads? Could be helpful if this fucker ain’t got a goddamn bandage. Er, maybe helpful anyway?

But then Joel sees the red cross. He picks up the white case, cracking it open just to check. Yep, bandages. You were going to need stitches, too. 

Needle an’ thread; he turns away from the cabinet.

“Joel?” You ask soberly, standing out of view beside the doorway. You didn’t want to startle him and have him shoot you, too. His stomach lurches at the tone of your voice. He chalks it up to you getting the drop on him. 

“Yeah. Y’alright?” His boots clomp to the doorway and he tilts his head down to see you in the gloom. 

“Did you check the whole house?” You’re staring at the last door on the right and Joel doesn’t wonder why. A notepad is strung up next to it, and a pen is taped to the wall. A list of times and dates is scrawled down the cover page, and instinctively you know that there are many pages similarly marked. 

“In the bathroom,” Joel indicates behind him with a commanding whisper.

“No, I’m here to cover you,” you look at him like he’s stupid. 

Course. The fuck’s wrong with me? Joel moves forward. 

You take a position diagonal to the door, your right hand directing your weapon while your left arm is cradled to your chest. You ignore the throbbing, biting pain as best you can, and what you can’t ignore, you hope sharpens your senses. 

Joel twists the knob and kicks the heavy, wood door open so violently that it nearly swings back on itself. His flashlight casts a ghostly white pall over the room. You see nothing but a dresser from your position, so you move forward, following Joel into the room. It’s a master bedroom. Spacious, dusty, cold. 

Tomb-like, you observe.

The body on the bed confirms your thought. Joel’s flashlight trains on the corpse, and it’s clear that it had been an infected woman. She’s been dead for several months, probably nearer years, as the fungus grows throughout the bedroom. You slowly back out of the room in horror. 

Your eyes catch on the paper hanging next to the door:

November 4th, 2009 - I couldn’t stay away. I’m not sure she’s gone.

November 5th, 2009 - I think she ate a little bit today. Fed her roast beef and mashed potatoes.

November 6th, 2009 - She smiled at me today. I’m so relieved.

On and on, this man had cataloged his descent into madness. Daily, he had been visiting his wife. Feeding her, hoping she’d heal from the infection and return to him. How had he not managed to get infected? Your stomach heaves. 

Joel appears and gently clutches the upper portion of your uninjured arm to haul you out of there. His fingers accidentally brush the side of your breast and Joel fights down the sick thrill he feels.

“C’mon.” 

He guides you to the front porch and sits you down on the steps. The body of the man next to your looks unbitten, uninfected. He must’ve kept her in that room alone until the infection killed her. 

The two of you take a moment to breathe in clean air. It’s quiet. The sun is hidden behind the clouds now which casts the valley in a gray shadow. Ellie pops her head up from across the road.

Standing over you, Joel can’t help but like the way you look up at him. His imagination takes him by surprise: your soft skin under his calloused hands, your legs hooked around his waist, and the way you might tell him his own name. 

Fuck, you’re as perverted as the guy she stabbed. Joel grumbles something unintelligible to you and heads back inside the house.

Ellie’s sneakers slap on the pavement as she runs up the driveway, “Oh, god, are you okay?”

You manage a smile, “Yeah. Don’t go in there, though. It was disgusting. Guy shat everywhere.”

“I mean your arm, dumbass.” 

“It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be,” you lie again. 

Joel, exiting the house with the medical supplies, hears your lies with satisfaction. Maybe his earlier words had been unnecessary. Ellie was lucky to have you.

“I need to get that wound cleaned out but it’s gonna hurt like hell,” he explains. “You sit behind her,” he suggests to your sister and she eagerly positions herself to support you. 

“This is helpful of you considering we’re just cargo,” Ellie mutters. 

Joel ignores her and addresses you, “’m serious, it’s gonna be a bitch.”

“You think I’m such a wimp,” you feign offense.

“No, I don’t,” Joel states, opening the bottle of saline. He unfastens the makeshift bandage made from his shirt and, without warning, pours some of the bottle’s contents onto your wound. 

A strangled howl escapes. You force your body to confront the pain, then try to accept it and lean into your sister. Your breathing is ragged. Ellie wraps an arm around your middle, comforting you with a squeeze. 

“’m gonna stitch you up now. You’re still losin’ blood. It’ll hurt.” His face drops to a thoughtful frown. “Might be better if you don’t fight it,” he advises, giving you permission to lose consciousness.

You clench your teeth in preparation. Your right hand grasps Ellie’s arm around your waist, and this time, Joel waits until you’re ready. You meet his dark eyes and nod. He carefully takes your elbow in his left hand. Then he pierces the needle through your skin. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The pain in your arm has subsided to a constant throb as your body restores itself. The wound was deep and would eventually leave a thick white scar. But for now, you keep it clean with the saline Joel had found. 

Four more days pass, and in that time Ellie wears Joel down even further. On the rare occasion when you three had traveled down a freeway, Ellie rescued a tattered book full of jokes and puns from a vacant car. 

Having known the girl her entire life, you’re not sure you’d ever seen her as happy as she was now. The first day she found it, she must’ve read four full pages aloud. 

Joel had put a stop to that. 

You’re grateful to Joel for his presence, but her happiness outweighs his opinion, so you encourage her. Was Joel amused or irritated? It was hard to tell. Sometimes you were certain that he always felt them together.

“Knock knock.” 

You oblige, “Who's there?"

“Amish.” 

“Amish who?”

“Really? You don't look like a shoe.”

That one earns a snort from you. “Not your best work, El.”

She dives back into the book, trying to get away with one more for the day, “Joel, your turn.”

“No.”

“I found the perfect one, I swear,” Ellie promises.

“No.”

“Knock knock.”

Joel swivels his head to glare at her. 

“C’mon, Joel,” she pleads. “Knock, knock.” He doesn’t budge.

“Who’s there?” You undermine the stoic man, smirking.

Ellie bites her lip to prevent her laughter, “Cargo!”

Joel makes a disbelieving scoff, “Wow.”

You snicker, enjoying Joel’s defeated face before you continue the joke: “Cargo who?” 

“No, car go ‘beep beep’.” Ellie delivers the lame punchline with gusto. 

Joel sets his hands on his hips and stares at the ground. He fights the tug of his cheek, then, in a moment that cements Joel in your heart, he shakes his head and huffs one, tiny laugh. 

"That was so fuckin' stupid."

“Ha!” Ellie whoops victoriously, a sound so pure that you start to laugh with her. “I told you.” 

Joel shakes his head more fervently. “I didn’t laugh. I snorted.”

“Same shit,” she retorts, still grinning.

“You get two of those a day, kid.” Joel holds up two fingers and resumes his path. 

          ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Two weeks after meeting Joel, or, if you went by Ellie’s timeline, ten chapters in her book later, the sound of the ocean fills your ears. Crossing the flat farmland of the piedmont was the worst part of the journey as there had been no landmarks, no wind, and scarce game. 

Now, there's a breeze you’ve never felt before. Your senses are full of the smell of salt, the whooping call of the few remaining gulls, and the clouds flitting by as though they have places to be. Your and Ellie’s wonder at the coast was not lost on Joel. He, too, feels lighter for the soaring sensation of the oceanside.

Ellie sits on a bench outside of an old tattoo shop. Your eyes scan the storefronts along the abandoned beachside tourist trap. This wasn’t a huge area. Probably a spot that only the locals came to, which is why the souvenir shops looked like they’d dried up several years before the outbreak. 

Joel has the map fully unfolded on the hood of a car. His palms are flat on either side of the document as he hunches over it, fully engrossed in determining the exact location he was supposed to find; and while he’s distracted, you are on high alert. 

In the best-case scenario, there are decent people waiting for you. At worst, there were infected around. Either way, you needed to be looking out for other bipeds. 

To Joel’s consternation, you weren’t seeing anything except old blockades, boarded-up windows, and trash that had yet to decompose blowing down the ghostly street. 

“Think there’s any decent food leftover in those restaurants?” Ellie asks having never eaten seafood.

“That would be a no,” you chuckle. “Seafood doesn’t keep long. And it stinks.”

“It kinda stinks out here sometimes,” Ellie observes.

“That would be what they make seafood out of,” Joel pipes up for the first time since breakfast, unintentionally mimicking your words.

“That’s what fish smells like?” Ellie’s eyes bug out of her head. “People ate that?” 

“So, their camp, settlement, compound - whatever the fuck it is - is at the end of this town. ‘Bout two miles that way,” Joel tilts his head. 

“So, go east more?” You joke. “When do we get to see a different needle on the compass?”

Joel bites the inside of his cheek, refusing you the satisfaction of a smile. “When we split up, I guess.” 

Joel pretends not to notice when both of your faces steel shut at his words. Better to let you two live your life somewhere safe where someone decent will watch your backs. It’d be best for all of you. He turns back to his map, pushing the two of you from his mind; he stares at the circled location trying to decipher what his brother would be doing here. 

  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

There’s nothing here. A day later, you’ve explored the length and breadth of the beachside town. There are no signs, no maintained fortifications, and no people. At one point there had been, though. Some walls had been erected between a few alleyways, creating a warren-like hideout. But they were empty. Joel had grown increasingly angry as the search went on. No one spoke. 

The discovery (or lack thereof) was disappointing for you and Ellie, but devastating to Joel; he went missing for most of the afternoon, returning just before sunset. Curiously, he seemed to be in a better mood.

After ensuring that no one had overlooked anything, you and Ellie follow Joel out onto the sand behind an ice cream shop. Ellie wouldn’t have mentioned it for a while to be mature, but she’d been dying to see the actual beach all day long. 

Joel sits on the soft, clean sand. A dune covered in beachgrass at his back, he relaxes. Clouds float by, and though it’s mostly sunny, the winter air is chilled further by the steady wind. Ellie continues out to the water, while you stand next to Joel. Thinking only of body heat, you lower yourself onto the sand as close to Joel as you dare.

“I’m sorry.” 

It feels inadequate. There are only a handful of reasons Joel’s brother wouldn’t be here and only one is hopeful.

“All this way. Two weeks of walkin’, and now I’m gonna have to go back out there,” Joel grumbles. 

Oh, okay. Optimism? He clearly wasn’t giving in to the idea that his brother could be dead, which relieves you. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find him. You’re the type of person who finds what he’s looking for,” you smile fondly at him. 

Joel’s heart spasms again. He wishes you’d stop smiling at him, and at the same time, he wishes you’d only ever smile at him. 

“Is our deal over?” He wonders. He hadn’t fulfilled his end yet, but the way you were talking made it seem like your partnership had ended.

“I’m not going to make you drag us cargo all over the United States.”

Joel smirks. “Technically, I ain't held up my end.”

“You and your technicalities. Technically,” you mock him, “I owe you. You’ve saved my ass twice now.”

“First time doesn’t count. I got you into that,” Joel actually laughs this time. It’s short and low, but you’re suddenly out of breath. His cheeks and eyes wrinkle when he grins, and he catches you staring. His grin fades.

A gust of icy wind blows by as you hide down in your thick flannel. You turn your attention from the captivating older man beside you to watch Ellie trying to skip rocks into the waves. She notices you and holds up both hands in a “What?” gesture. 

You shake your head and chuckle at her.

“She’s a good kid,” Joel agrees. 

Would this man ever cease to surprise you? He’s just spent two weeks walking and being tortured by Ellie’s joke book, with a single goal in mind - only to find the goalpost has moved; and he’s being friendly? 

“I’m pretty fond of her,” you reply. 

A lull in the conversation leads to a comfortable silence as you enjoy the sea air. 

Eventually, Joel speaks again. “’m sorry I said those things. It wasn’t my place.” Joel is turned away from you, looking out over the waves.

Though it’s been almost two weeks, you know which words he means. “I know I seem silly to you. Too frivolous and… optimistic, I guess, but I have and will always put her first.” 

Joel doesn’t reply. He’s tempted to deny your first and second statements, but he feels too exposed already. For fuck’s sake, he had been almost sad about the prospect of going your separate ways.

“Guess I’m easily pleased,” you muse.

“What?” Joel doesn’t know how to take that, but he knows the way he wants to take it.

“You know. The meaning of life and shit?” You wave your hand to indicate everything.

“Oh. Did you two plan this?”

“We - what?” 

“Ellie gave me a spiel earlier ‘bout how we need to find reasons to keep going or fightin’ or whatever the hell she said.” 

“She did?” you laugh. “I taught her well. I mean, what’s the point of this? Just surviving? Eating your next meal? Creating power-squabbling communities that end up getting people killed? Ration cards in the QZs? That sucks.”

Joel looks into the sand as if it has the answer. “I think most people lost their reasons a long time ago.” 

And you’re still staring at him as he checks his watch. His old, busted wristwatch that’s been telling only one time for eight years. 

“Yes, you’re right,” you agree, “but there are always other reasons. Sometimes it’s a bunch of small reasons combined with big ones, like the beauty of the earth and my sister for me. Or sunrises, or,” you indicate the waves rolling in front of you. “But there are always reasons. You find them if you look.” 

Taking more bravery than the first time you met an infected, you place your hand on Joel’s wrist, letting your thumb stroke once over his skin. He’s as warm as you hoped, and it makes you want to cry. You knew Joel’s coldness was a front. It’s his defense. 

Joel becomes a statue. It’s the first time you’ve touched him and his first thought is that he’s glad he took his jacket off. His second thought is that you should not feel so comfortable with him. You both needed to be able to separate without lingering emotion.

But, damn, this is like starin’ at the sun. Even when I look away I see her.

“Sorry.”

You remove your hand, not wanting to cause him distress.

“Ellie is right. People need reasons to continue fighting. Otherwise, you end up fighting for the wrong things, or giving up.”  

“You two are gonna love my brother - sound jus’ like him.” 

He earns another laugh from you. “Your brother sounds like a good guy.”

“He’s nothin’ like me,” Joel snorts good-naturedly.

“Well,” you murmur, “that’s not a point in his favor.” 

Joel hums in his chest. “Mm. It’s not?” 

Maybe lettin’ go once wouldn’t be so bad. She’s so... so - Joel realizes he’d leaned into you at some point. 

Your face bravely tilts up to study Joel’s reaction when you shyly shake your head. 

In disbelief, you watch as Joel’s eyes fall to your lips. Your heart pounds in your throat. His side is touching yours now and the contact radiates heat throughout your body. The world could end a second time and you wouldn’t notice. 

“I think it’s been too long since you’ve known a good man, because I sure ain't the standard,” Joel’s warning is coated in his thick accent. 

“I know a good man when I see one. That’s why I gave him my rabbit,” your voice is barely above a whisper, but Joel is so focused on you that he catches every inflection. 

“Hey, I’m hungry.” A teenager’s voice cuts the tension between you and Joel like a scythe. 

Both of you jump, heads jerking up to see Ellie standing much closer than you thought. 

“Um, I think Joel found some edible stuff from a general store.” You unwillingly turn back to him, “Is there enough to split? If not, I’ll take her foraging.” 

Joel’s looking out across the ocean again, refusing to meet your eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, there’s plenty.” 

Too close. Get a fuckin' grip. Joel watches you stand and walk Ellie back to the store you’d set camp in. He can’t help but watch as you walk away.

Wouldn’t be a one-time thing. I’d never leave. 

You think he’s a good man. Is it your naivety? Or do you mean that in spite of everything you can assume he’s done, he’s still capable of good?

Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. 

Joel rips himself away from his daydream and from his pocket, he pulls the piece of paper he found earlier. Written in the NATO phonetic alphabet leftover from Tommy’s military days, the note is directed at Joel. Tommy’s handwriting is cramped and terrible, and it makes Joel grin.

If, by some crazy chance you’re reading this, J, we left. Sorry. Got wind of a group in WY that’s doing some real good. Leaving this note as a long shot. Miss you, man. 

™

He had found it in the store Tommy knew Joel couldn’t pass up. It was a cramped music store featuring acoustic guitars in the window. The shop set back a little from the main thoroughfare which kept it mostly untouched. The note had been taped to a guitar just like the one Joel owned a decade ago. 

It’d been eight years since Joel had cried, and he wouldn’t now, either, but he felt a sting. Wyoming is a long fuckin’ way. He felt frustrated at having walked for two weeks in the wrong direction. A brief, petty thought to abandon his goal of finding his brother crossed his mind - but it was one born of exhaustion and anger. 

The map he carried was an East Coast map. He’d have to find a map of the country, but by his estimation, he was in for a two-month walk minimum. A list of supplies began scrolling in his head, and he itemized everything.

The southeast had been less plundered than the rest of the US, so it’d be worth it to scour the outdoor supply places. Grocery stores were all but ransacked instantly, so he’d be less inclined to check those unless one seemed particularly promising.

You and Ellie. He swallows. He hadn’t forgotten - just had been avoiding it. Should he ask? You always had the opportunity to part ways at any moment, but did he dare extend the offer? 

Two months of puns from the kid. Two months of sufferin’ them as cargo. He looks at his hands to distract himself from a smirk.

More mouths to feed. It’d be nice not to be alone. He pushes this thought away in search of one he can work with.

More eyes, more hands. The older sister’s smart. And brave. She doesn’t even complain about her arm. And the kid… Kid’s a flat-out liability but she’s got her own charm.

Joel quiets his mind and lists the pros and cons. He makes his decision.

Continue->